


Pressure Point

by ashtraythief



Series: Underneath 'verse [21]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternative Universe - FBI, Crimes & Criminals, Don't copy to another site, Fighting, Interrogation, Kidnapping, M/M, Murder, POV Outsider, Torture, Undercover, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-14 12:05:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18052202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtraythief/pseuds/ashtraythief
Summary: Jensen Campbell gets arrested. Jared does not handle it well.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Set about three months after Way Down We Go, three weeks after Long Days and about two weeks after What’s In A Name (yes, I have finally created an excel document with the timeline, I am very proud of that, so shhh and let me have this gloriously chronologically ordered moment). Not gonna lie, this one’s a bit darker again. 
> 
> So many thanks to keep_waking_up for brainstorming, handholding and problem solving. All my love to my wonderful betas ilikaicalie and masja_17 who go above and beyond to hunt my typos and make this read much smoother.
> 
> This fic is finished but I want to give myself and my wonderful betas enough time to go over it, so I’ll post this in fic in four pieces, one for each of the remaining March weekends.

 

 

The office was bustling with activity. It always was when he walked in some time between nine and eleven. He was never in early, that just wasn’t his style. DeKay had accepted it, and the rest of the office had followed suit. They actually liked him, mostly, even though he was a con man on a house arrest anklet. He brought results, and he always remembered everybody’s birthday. He even brought pastries—the good ones from the little artisan pastry shop two blocks down, not some dried out, over-sugared doughnuts. He wasn’t a cop, thank you very much.

“Bomer!” DeKay leaned out his office door, one of his broad, sensible ties dangling in front of his white shirt. “Get your ass in gear, we’ve got a lead!”

DeKay’s eyes were shining with excitement, the way they only did when they had a really big case. They didn't have anything exciting on the docket currently—mostly bank fraud that made Matt want to bash his head against the wall in boredom—so this was worrying. The only two open investigations that got DeKay golden retriever levels of excited were the Beagle Boy or Jensen Campbell.

Matt really hoped this was about the Beagle Boy. Even though he’d almost blown them up the last time they got close to catching up with his safe-cracking spree, that would still be preferable to another encounter with Jensen’s boyfriend. That man was a whole different level of dangerous.

Matt had wondered why Jensen would hook up with a mobster when he’d first heard about it. It just wasn’t his style. But when Padalecki had slammed Matt against the bathroom stall, he wasn’t ashamed to admit that, yeah, he could see it. And it actually explained why things between him and Jensen had never gotten serious, and not for Matt’s lack of trying. Padalecki was very attractive, of course, but he also exuded a raw, physical power that Matt had never encountered before. And to have that slam you against a wall and not kill you, but—

“Bomer!”

Startled, Matt looked up.

DeKay rolled his eyes. “I hope you’re not still daydreaming about that Van Gogh.”

“So much worse,” Matt muttered and hurried over to DeKay’s office.

DeKay had a file open on the table. Matt leaned down to skim it. It was a jewelry heist from a week ago, a local maritime museum in upstate New York had been robbed. The cops already had a suspect in custody. Busy Philipps looked tired in her mugshot.

“One of the junior agents, Thomason, was helping the local police with the case. After they apprehended Philipps, Agent Thomason brought the case to me,” DeKay said with a smile.

“And why do we care about a third-rate thief and a diamond necklace?” Matt asked.

DeKay pulled a picture out of the file. It showed a dark corridor and half a leg in the corner. “There were two people on the job,” DeKay said. “The security guard chased this guy for a few minutes before he lost him in an alley.”

Matt pointed at the mystery leg in the picture. “This guy? Wow. That picture is better than a print. No, really, finding this guy will be child’s play.”

DeKay pulled an annoyed grimace, but it didn’t last long. “Philipps is prepared to roll on her accomplice.”

“And we’re excited about that because…?”

Now DeKay grinned broadly. “It’s Jensen Campbell.”

Matt stared back at the file. “No way. Jensen’s better than that.”

“Jensen?” DeKay’s brows shot up sharply. “I thought we talked about this.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to start calling him by his last name just so you can believe I’m over him. I told you, Jensen doesn’t mean anything to me. He was a fling, nothing more. And he’s basically sleeping with the enemy now, so…”

DeKay crossed his arms over his chest.

“Look.” Matt spread out his hands. “I promised I’d help you get Jensen and I’m doing the best I can. But I told you, he’s good. One of the best in the business. And with Padalecki’s resources… I mean he doesn’t have to steal anymore, he’s doing this for fun. Because he can.” Matt’s mouth quirked into a smile. “And because he’s a fucking addict.”

DeKay perked up. “Addict? You never said—”

Matt waved him off. “Addicted to the rush, to the adrenaline. And that’s why I’m not convinced that this is him because that job does not look exciting enough to interest him. And it looks like a major screw-up. Jensen doesn’t do screw-ups.”

“Well, why don’t we talk to Ms. Philipps and find out?”

Matt held the door open for DeKay. “After you.”

He really hoped Philipps was lying because he did not want to go after Jensen and run into Padalecki again. No matter how disturbingly hot the wall-slamming had been, Matt had a feeling that Padalecki would use the gun next time. He wasn’t rumored to be a man of great patience. And the story of Heyerdahl’s untimely demise still haunted Matt, even though Heyerdahl had it coming.

 

Busy Philipps was a pretty blonde woman. Her file suggested that she was neck-deep in financial trouble because of her sick mother, but sitting here in the FBI’s interrogation room, she didn’t look nervous or even afraid.

“There’s something off about this,” Matt muttered to DeKay while they were watching her through the glass.

DeKay pursed his lips, then put on his poker face. “Let’s find out what.”

He walked into the room. “Ms. Philipps. I’m Special Agent DeKay, this is my partner Matt Bomer.”

“About time,” Philipps grumbled.

“So.” DeKay sat down and spread out the file in front of her. “Surveillance pictures, a security guard’s statement and, most importantly, your prints. We have you dead to rights for this robbery.”

Philipps smiled at him. “But you don’t have him.” She pointed at the picture that DeKay had shown to Matt, the one with half a leg.

“And you’re prepared to tell us who that is.”

“I already did, didn’t I?” Busy said impatiently. “That’s Jensen Campbell.”

“It’s going to be your word against his unless you have proof.”

“We talked on the phone,” Philipps said.

DeKay nodded. “A burner. We checked your phone records and we know it was in Chicago, but that’s still circumstantial evidence at best.”

 

Philipps didn’t look worried. “Jensen and I go way back. I’m sure there’s some evidence from years ago, in New York.”

“It would be easier if we had something concrete. Pictures, surveillance, prints.”

For the first time, Philipps’ confidence wavered. Her mouth twitched, almost like she was annoyed. “Yeah, well, Jensen’s good. So that leg is all you have.”

DeKay let out a sigh. “I don’t know if that’s going to be enough.”

“Look, if you put all that circumstantial evidence together, you don’t think you can make a case? With my testimony?”

DeKay folded his hands and gave her one of his deep, inquisitive stares. “You’re really prepared to swear to that?”

Philipps nodded. “In exchange for immunity.”

“Immunity?” DeKay asked incredulously. “Cooperation will get you a reduced sentence, but we’re not just going to let you walk.”

“Yes, you will,” Philipps said with the reassurance of someone who knew she had the best hand at the table. “Because this is Jensen Campbell. And you want him bad.”

DeKay raised his eyebrows.

Philipps gave him a condescending smile. “Jensen’s one of the best in the business. I know that he doesn’t do a lot of high-profile stuff anymore, but you know what he’s capable of. But that’s not even why you want him so bad. You want him because of his boyfriend. Padalecki, the king of Chicago. Locking up his boyfriend—now, the FBI must love the idea of that.”

“Immunity?” DeKay just stated flatly.

Philipps nodded. “And a spot in WITSEC. I need to start over. Because we both know that Padalecki will kill me, given the chance.”

DeKay pursed his lips. “We’re going to have to talk to the district attorney’s office about that.”

Philipps smiled. “I’ll be here waiting for you.”

DeKay rolled his eyes, then stood, motioning for Matt to follow. Outside, he leaned against the door.

“She’s way too calm about the fact that she’ll testify against Padalecki’s boyfriend and that she’ll have to go into WITSEC,” Matt said quietly. He didn’t want anyone to overhear. It was well-known in law enforcement circles that Padalecki paid handsomely for information, even from one-time informants.

“You don’t think she’ll do it.”

“No, I think she will. But I think she has ulterior motives.” Matt hated when he didn't have all the facts.

“Yeah, maybe.” DeKay pushed himself off the wall. “Her financial debt is substantial. And she might not have borrowed only from the bank. But I think she’ll give us Campbell. She’s sufficiently motivated.”

“Then how are you not more excited about this?” Matt asked. He wasn’t keen on getting Jensen, but he knew DeKay was. “Come on, I mean, they’ll give her immunity for Campbell, right?”

“That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

“For starters, I don’t like having to watch you even more than I already do.”

“Why would you do that?” Matt asked, going for indignant.

DeKay just gave him an impatient look. “ _Jensen_? I don’t care how over him you are, you like him. And I’m still not convinced you didn’t tip him off last time.”

“I swear, I didn’t! Padalecki almost shot me. Remember the bruises?”

DeKay just grumbled. “I’m just saying. Anything goes wrong here, you’re the first one I’m looking at. And I won’t hesitate to put you back behind bars.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “I swear, I will not do anything to jeopardize this. My life’s on the line here, just as much as Busy’s. Because if Padalecki thinks I screwed over his boyfriend… I mean, you did hear what he did to Heyerdahl, right?”

“Yeah, I heard. I also heard what he did to O’Leary and his men. I really hope Morgan gets a handle on him. Usually, he doesn't take so long.”

“Speaking of Morgan…”

DeKay sighed. “Morgan has made it unmistakably clear that I can’t touch Campbell without his say-so, no matter what I have on him.” DeKay fixed his piercing eyes on Matt. “And I have no intention of getting another lecture by the assistant director, not to mention jeopardizing my career.”

Matt tilted his head. “I thought you told him it was all my idea to approach Jensen in Chicago.”

“I did,” DeKay said dryly. “And then I got chewed out for not having you under control.”

Matt made a face.

“Exactly.”

“So, we talk to Morgan.” Maybe, if they just handed this off, Jensen would never know that he’d been involved. Padalecki would never know.

“Yeah.” DeKay’s face was grim.

It wasn’t hard to guess what DeKay was worried about. “You think he’s going to take this away from you.”

“Worse.” DeKay shot him a dark look. “Morgan doesn’t give a shit about Campbell, he just wants Padalecki.”

“You think he’s going to use this to get Padalecki,” Matt said slowly. “But how?”

“I don’t know. But Morgan’s a shifty guy. He’ll find a way.”

Matt shot DeKay a questioning look.

“They call him Odysseus at Quantico.”

“Wow. The FBI _would_ be nerdy enough for Ancient Greek nicknames.”

“Shut up.”

“Do you have one too?” Matt asked with a grin. “I bet they call you Hector. Totally straightlaced.”

“They don’t call me anything because I’m not important enough.”

“You’re right; you’re much more of a Cassandra.”

DeKay just shook his head. “I’m gonna talk to Morgan.”

“Can I be Aeneas?” Matt asked.

DeKay shot him an exasperated look. “How about you try to be Fortuna for once so that Morgan lets us work this case with him?”

“Fortuna is Roman,” Matt said mulishly. “The Greek goddess of fortune is Tyche.” But DeKay was right. He’d need all the luck in the world.

Matt needed to call Willie again. If this went sideways, he’d need to leave the country before Padalecki turned him into fish food for real.

DeKay walked towards his office. “I’m gonna call Morgan. Wish me luck.”

“Luck!” Matt called after him.

He’d have to make his own phone call. The question was just whether he’d call Jensen or Willie. He didn’t want Jensen to go to jail. But if Padalecki knew there was someone out there who was prepared to put Jensen in jail… Which led him to the question of Busy Philipps. Matt was still convinced there was more to her story than she let on, but that didn’t mean that he wanted her to die.

Matt pulled out his phone and his thumb hovered over the contacts. Then he dialed. “I need advice.”

 


	2. Chapter 1: Immovable Object

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is where it gets dark. Heed the warnings and the tags.
> 
> Many thanks to my wonderful betas ilikaicalie and masja_17 who are working tirelessly on his fic. If all works out I'll be able to post the rest much faster than anticipated.

 

 

The FBI knocked on Jared’s door on a rainy Wednesday evening in February.

With a pinched expression, Sam led them to the living room where Jared and Jensen were lounging on the couch. Jared was reading papers for work and Jensen had his nose buried in a new novel. The dogs were lying at their feet, neither of them keen on their evening walk with the unpleasant weather. Harley especially detested the rain.

Jared’s feet were on the coffee table and Jensen’s feet were in Jared’s lap. Jensen was pretty sure they made the picture of domesticity. Agents Whitfield and Evans were not impressed.

“You again.” Jensen made a face.

Jared sighed. “Agents. What can I do for you now?”

Whitfield smiled. Behind him, four more agents in blue FBI jackets entered the room.

Jared stood swiftly, dumping Jensen’s feet unceremoniously on the couch. “Sam, call Chad and Mark.”

Whitfield’s smile morphed into the smug joy of someone who knew the answer to a question no one had thought to ask yet. “Ah, Mr. Padalecki, we’re not here for you.” He turned to Jensen. “Jensen Campbell, you’re under arrest.”

“What?” Jared asked sharply.

“You have the right to remain silent.”

Jensen glared at Whitfield. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law,” Whitfield continued smugly. “You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one, one will be provided for you.”

“On what charges?” Jared’s voice was hard and unignorable.

Whitfield nodded to Evans, who handed Jared a piece of paper. “This is a warrant for his arrest. I’m sorry to tell you, Mr. Padalecki, but as we informed you before, your boyfriend is a thief. Three weeks ago, he stole a diamond necklace in New York.”

Whitfield held up the handcuffs to Jensen. “Please tell me you’re going to resist.”

“You wish,” Jensen bit out while Whitfield laughed and cuffed him.

Jensen really hated handcuffs. Whitfield made sure they were tight and then shot Jensen a lewd look. “I have been dreaming of this moment for a long time.”

“I bet you have, you kinky fucker.”

Jared’s jaw twitched. Jensen could see how he squared his shoulders, a telltale sign of his growing rage, but he remained calm.

“I’m calling Mark,” Jared said. “You don’t say a word until he gets there. I mean it, Jensen.”

Jared’s voice might sound strong and unwavering, but Jensen heard the undercurrent of panic in it. Jared knew where Jensen had been three weeks ago.

Jensen had gotten a call from Busy, an old acquaintance. She was a mess, but her heart was in the right place and she had a sick mother to support. Jensen had made the mistake of not double-checking her prep and the whole job had gone to shit faster than he could get out of the building.

Looking back, he couldn’t believe that it hadn’t occurred to him that Morgan had set up the job. Maybe he’d thought Morgan would shy away from putting pressure on a woman just trying to take care of her family, but then again, that was exactly who they could put pressure on. Jensen couldn't even really be mad at Busy. How getting Jensen into jail was going to help, he didn’t know, but Morgan must have a plan. Probably not a good one, but that wasn’t Jensen’s problem right now. He was just pissed he’d have to spend the night in a cell.

 

Mark Sheppard was at the FBI building before Jensen was even lead to the interrogation room. Sometimes Jensen thought the man could teleport. Listening to Whitfield and Evans present the charges and lay out the evidence, Jensen scoffed. Their case was even flimsier than he’d thought. He really had left no evidence behind—no jury would convict him based on a picture of his calf—and the security guard hadn’t seen anything.

“I see,” Sheppard said tightly. “You do realize that you have absolutely no substantial evidence and that this is continued harassment of my client due to his affiliation with Mr. Padalecki and your vendetta against him.”

“Jensen,” Evans said and leaned forward with a pretty convincing worried expression. “May I call you Jensen?”

“No.”

Evans flinched and Jensen almost felt bad for him. Whitfield might be a grade-A asshole, but Evans seemed like a decent agent.

“Alright, Mr. Campbell,” Evans said. “We know that you’re in a difficult position. But our offer still stands. We know that your boyfriend is a very powerful man. And we are still prepared to protect you.”

“And now you’re just insulting my client’s relationship,” Sheppard cut in. “Now, I don’t know who you bribed to get that warrant, but if that is all, I will go see about getting it invalidated.”

“Not so fast,” Whitfield said. “There’s someone else who wants to talk to him.”

The door opened and another agent came in. He was tall, with clear, handsome features and a sensible haircut. His eyes were alert, with a cunning intelligence in them. This was a dangerous opponent.

“Mr. Campbell, I’m Tim DeKay. I’m with the White Collar division in New York.”

Jensen wanted to strangle Matt. This was the second time Matt hadn’t given him a warning. He didn’t even expect him not to go along with the FBI’s plans, but it wasn’t too much to ask for a heads-up. Jared had made it abundantly clear that this time, it would have consequences. And Jensen didn’t know if he could protect Matt again. Not that it wouldn’t serve him right... Matt had turned into a disloyal piece of shit. And this after Jensen had put Matt’s share from their New York diamond store heist from years ago into a Cayman Island bank account and sent him the account number. Even if Matt was working for the Feds, Jensen didn’t want to risk damaging his reputation and Campbell paid his debts. Since he was rumored to have fled the country with everyone's share, as he was the only one who hadn't gotten arrested, it was only fair to pay Matt. Even if he’d tried to set him up. He’d thought the money would even serve as the carrot to Jared’s stick, make Matt give him a warning about DeKay. Apparently, that hadn’t worked.

DeKay turned to Whitfield and Evans. “Agents, if you wouldn’t mind…”

Jensen didn’t suppress his grin at Whitfield getting thrown out of the room.

Whitfield shot Jensen a condescending look. “Don’t think we won’t be watching.”

“Like I said, kinky fucker.”

Whitfield slammed the door behind him.

“I like you,” Jensen said to DeKay.

DeKay’s face remained serious, but the corners of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly,

“But you’re a long way from home, agent,” Jensen said.

“Jensen, that’s enough,” Sheppard said quietly.

Jensen just shot him a look and Sheppard rolled his eyes. “Please let me do my job.”

Jensen snorted. “I can have a civilized conversation with this upstanding officer of the law.”

Sheppard looked up at the ceiling. “I’m not getting paid enough for this.”

“Yes, you are,” Jensen shot back.

DeKay sat down and put three folders on the table in front of him. “I have to say, Mr. Campbell, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Matt’s told me a lot about you.”

“Only good things I hope.” Jensen went for his most charming smile.

DeKay gave him an indulgent smile. “Well, I can see why he likes you.”

“Thank you.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that we have a witness, Mr. Campbell. If you confess, you save yourself a lot of trouble.”

Jensen just gave him a slightly exasperated look.

“The security guard did not see the thief’s face,” Sheppard threw in. “These are baseless accusations and will never hold up in court.”

DeKay looked at Jensen with his head cocked thoughtfully. “L.A., eight years ago. The Getty Museum. New York, seven years ago. The diamond store. Then Europe. Two years ago, a Van Gogh from a private collection. Then a Manet from a private collection, again in New York. L.A., San Francisco, Miami, Atlanta. The list is endless.”

“All of these are unfounded accusations, with no evidence,” Sheppard interjected.

DeKay leaned forward and stared at Jensen. “I don’t need evidence to know. Every time you travel, something disappears in that city. And this time, we’re going to make it stick.”

Jensen just smiled. “That would be quite the trick.”

“Matt told me you're a smart guy,” DeKay said. “A cat with nine lives, who always lands on his feet. I’m telling you, if you don’t cooperate this time, you’re going to jail. But if you help us out,” DeKay nodded towards the glass, “the task force will protect you.”

Jensen mirrored DeKay and leaned forward. “I have nothing to say to you, Agent DeKay.”

DeKay sighed. “Busy Philipps signed a confession, admitting that she pulled the job with you.”

Well shit.

“That’s obviously a lie to get herself out of the charges,” Sheppard said immediately.

DeKay opened the first folder and spread out several papers. “Flight records. You were in New York during the time of the heist. Your description matches the picture and what the security guard saw. And Philipps signed an affidavit. Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?”

“Going to New York is not a crime,” Jensen said because there was really no way out of the flight tickets. Besides, his face would be all over airport security.

DeKay looked at Sheppard, then back at Jensen. “You might think about getting a different attorney, Mr. Campbell. I don’t think your boyfriend’s lawyer is going to act in your best interest.”

“Absolutely preposterous,” Sheppard said.

Jensen just grinned. DeKay was good. “I appreciate your concern.”

DeKay leaned back. “Well, I know your type.”

Jensen decided to indulge him. “Excuse me?”

DeKay waved towards the mirror where Jensen assumed Matt was watching. “I’ve worked with Matt for a while. You and him, you’re cut from the same cloth. You’re not in it for the money; you’re in it for the fun. The thrill. Because you can. Because you’re smarter than anyone else in the room.”

“I’m flattered.”

DeKay smiled. “And you’re witty too. You two must have been quite the pair.”

“Make your point, Agent.”

“I already have.” DeKay raised an eyebrow. “You’re an artist. A free spirit. And you tied yourself down here. With a man who’s powerful enough to protect you from all kinds of pesky little inconveniences, like, let’s say greedy angry former crew runners who threaten you and then end up chopped up in the lake. But being with Padalecki puts a spotlight on your back at the same time.”

Oh, DeKay was _very_ good.

DeKay opened his second file. It contained a stack of pictures of items Jensen had stolen in the past few years. “Jewelry from private residences... cracked safes, picked locks. There was that one Manet in New York shortly after you met him, but you haven’t pulled a high-profile heist since you started dating Padalecki seriously. Not like the Van Gogh you stole from his office. That’s how you met, isn't it?”

Jensen smirked.

“My client,” Sheppard started, but DeKay cut him off.

“Yeah yeah, an innocent little lamb. Now, Whitfield and Evans told me they thought you dated Padalecki because that’s how you were going to get access to steal the painting.”

Jensen scoffed. “These two fine agents don’t know their heads from their asses.”

DeKay smiled. “They really don’t. I looked at the file. You _did_ steal that painting, didn’t you? Quite the feat, considering the building security.”

With a tiny smirk, Jensen raised his shoulders. It had been a pretty good job.

“And then Lehne, the guy who hired you, sold you out. That’s why he spent two weeks in the ICU.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

DeKay nodded, then he reached for the last folder. He pulled out a bunch of pictures. Jensen and Jared, leaving a restaurant. Jensen’s hair was a little shorter than it was now, still growing out from his Miami assignment. It must have been at the beginning of their relationship.

“They don’t know,” DeKay said conspiratorially, “but I do. Padalecki was ready to kill you and yet somehow you lived. Whitfield and Evans think you made a deal with him, but you didn’t, did you? You’re too proud for that. You just wrapped him around your little finger, a good old-fashioned seduction. And then you left. And came back. Because somehow, you fell in love with him.”

“Look, usually, I’d love to talk about how great my relationship with Jared is, but this is kind of a mood killer.” Jensen raised his shackled hands.

“Ah, but it’s not so great, is it?”

Jensen groaned. “Not you too. I thought you got it.”

“But I do. And I’m not saying that you don’t love each other. But you live in a golden cage, Jensen.”

“Bullshit. I can go wherever, whenever I want.”

DeKay gave him a pitying look. “Cracked safes.” He pulled out the pictures again. “Picked locks. This is so far beneath what you’re capable of. But with a partner like Padalecki, you can’t pull the high-profile heists anymore. You can’t break into the Chicago Art Institute to steal Van Gogh’s _Bedroom_ and burn town after. Hell, you couldn’t steal the _Sunflowers_ when it was auctioned off right in your backyard. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but you couldn’t do it. The Met, the Louvre, the Uffizi. You’re in your best years, a brilliant thief, and yet you steal diamond necklaces from rich housewives because your boyfriend is a mobster.” DeKay stabbed at the picture of a diamond necklace, pushing it towards Jensen. “Ordinary, low-level jobs. That’s your golden cage, Jensen.”

Jensen stared at DeKay. “You’re good,” he said slowly.

DeKay nodded, his face almost comically serious.

“But you’re wrong.”

“Oh?” DeKay’s eyebrows shot up.

“The thrill, the adrenaline. Those are things you need when your life is empty. When you’re still searching.” He shot a glance at the big mirror. “Like Matt. But I found what I didn’t even know I was looking for.” Out of the stack of surveillance pics, Jensen slid out one of him and Jared standing in front of Berry Hat. In the halo of the streetlamp, Jensen was feeding Jared a spoonful of frozen yogurt and smiling triumphantly. “This is all the thrill I need.”

DeKay pointed at the diamond necklace. “Really?”

Jensen sheepishly wet his lips. “You gotta have your hobbies.”

DeKay shook his head. “I don’t believe it. You might believe it now, but that will pass. Two years is not a terribly long time. And I bet Padalecki keeps life exciting for you. But you’ll never stop thinking about it. All the Van Goghs, all the Monets, all those impossible museum security systems. Your name still carries weight, Mr. Campbell. But these days, it’s not because of what you do. It’s because of who you fuck.”

Jensen flinched at DeKay’s sudden crassness.

“I’ll give you some time to think,” DeKay said and stood. “I’ll happily come back to talk to you again.” He pulled a card out of his jacket inner pocket. “Call me anytime. I mean it.”

An agent escorted Jensen and Sheppard to a room where they could talk in private.

“I will talk to Mr. Padalecki,” Sheppard said, carefully watching Jensen.

“Oh, come on, you can’t think that actually worked.”

“I don’t think. I plan for all eventualities.”

Jensen rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna betray Jared. I actually proposed, in case you didn’t know.”

That got a reaction out of Sheppard. He turned to Jensen with raised eyebrows. “I know about the wedding. But _you_ proposed?”

“Yeah. So right now this mess is a bigger problem than what you think about our relationship.”

“It’s really not,” Sheppard said.

“They have an eyewitness.”

Sheppard just raised an eyebrow. “I am aware. I’ll have to do some research, but even if this case goes to trial I don’t think she’ll be a credible witness.”

“If?”

Sheppard shrugged. “Well, you never know with these things. Witnesses change their minds all the time. Now, I will go and see about your bail.”

Jensen snorted and Sheppard left him alone. Well fuck.

Jensen didn’t have a lot of time to think because the door opened and Morgan came in.

“Morgan, what’s the point of this?” Jensen raised his shackled hands.

Morgan gave him a hard smile. “You’re going to jail.”

Jensen scoffed. “I can’t believe you’d stoop this low for a setup. How did you even convince Busy to go along with this plan, huh? Did you dangle her mother’s Alzheimer’s over her head?”

“I think your empathy is a little misplaced here, Ackles. She’s a thief.”

Jensen just raised his eyebrows. “Doesn’t make it any less shitty.”

Morgan shrugged. “The law’s the law. And truth be told, Philipps was pretty eager to go along. In exchange for immunity and a new life in WITSEC, she was prepared to set you up.”

“You know, if you would have told me, I could have set myself up. All by myself. And then Jared would have still tried to break me out of jail, even if it was my own fault, and no one else would’ve gotten dragged into this.”

Morgan smiled grimly, and suddenly Jensen realized where this was going.

“You fucking bastard. You _want_ her to testify.”

Morgan just looked at him evenly, waiting for him to explode.

“I can’t believe you’re this stupid. You're gonna get her killed,” Jensen said. “Why not just let him break me out of jail?”

“Because he needs to get his own hands dirty,” Morgan said coldly. “Murray or Rosenbaum are not enough, we both know that it’s Padalecki who has to go. And for a breakout, he’d just hire someone. But the person who ratted you out? He’s gonna do that himself.”

Jensen slammed a fist on the table. “You’re sending a woman to her death!”

Morgan shook his head. “No. I’m not making the same mistake again.”

“How is this not making the same mistake?”

“The last time, we tried to keep someone away from him. This time, we want him to find her. This time, we’re setting up a trap. And when he comes to take care of the witness, we’ll get him.”

“Busy as bait.”

Morgan nodded.

Tired, Jensen leaned back in the chair. “It’s not going to work. He’s too careful.”

Morgan pushed a file towards him. “Take a good look.”

With a huff, Jensen reached for it. It was one of DeKay’s files, the one with pictures of Jared and Jensen. The two of them in restaurants, leaving restaurants, walking the dogs, going to the Nine. A picture of Jensen dragging a smiling Jared into Berry Hat for a late-night serving of frozen yogurt. The picture of him feeding Jared a spoonful. And a more recent one, Jared and Jensen at the auction house, Jared standing next to Jensen, his expression soft in a way Jensen had never seen before.

Morgan tapped the picture with his index finger, then pushed it toward Jensen. “Look at that face, Ackles. Tell me he won't do everything in his power to keep you.”

Jensen looked at Jared’s face, open and smiling softly, both dimples in plain sight and his eyes trained on Jensen. It was the face of a man deeply in love.

Jensen swallowed around the lump in his throat.

“The risk is too high. Busy doesn’t deserve this.”

Morgan gathered the file. “She’ll be fine. I’m not actually involving a civilian in this, okay? We’ve been planning this for weeks and I have very capable agents on it. In the meantime, enjoy your time in jail. Get your head on straight.”

“Jail?”

Morgan grinned. “You’re a high flight risk. No bail for you. Besides, the more angry Padalecki is, the more irrational he’ll be.” Then he left, slamming the door behind him,

Jensen sank back in the chair, making his cuffs rattle. “That’s not how Jared works,” he said to the empty room. He had a really bad feeling about this.

 

 

“You told me Jensen got away clean! You told me they had nothing on him!” Jared dragged a hand through his hair. “I asked you, explicitly, to make sure that Jensen got away clean, and you said he did!”

Aldis blinked stoically. Jared was pacing up and down and tried not to grip him by the collar and shake him. But his blood was boiling and the deep, hot ball of rage would not disappear from his stomach.

“Tell me how the fuck you screwed this up!”

Aldis took a deep breath. “I didn’t. Look, there was nothing in the police file that could have led them to Jensen.”

“Then _how_ did they arrest him?” Jared shouted.

“His partner sold him out.”

Jared whirled around. Sheppard was standing in the door of his office, calm and collected as always.

“His partner?” Jared asked.

Sheppard nodded. “Yes. The FBI apprehended her and it seems she was prepared to give him up.”

Jared turned back to Aldis. “Find out _everything_ about her.”

Aldis’ fingers were already flying over his keyboard. “On it.”

Chad walked over to him and pressed a tumbler of whiskey into his hand. “Drink and breathe.”

Jared took the tumbler and stared at it. Chad put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. Jensen’s going to be okay.”

Jensen was in jail. Nothing about this was okay. Jared threw the tumbler against the wall and slapped Chad’s hand away.

“Jensen is in jail,” Jared bit out.

Chad took a step back, but his expression didn’t waiver. “And we’ll get him out.”

“Even if we do—Jensen’s in jail!”

“Jared—”

“Don’t! You know exactly how Jensen feels about exposure. What do you think he’s gonna say now that he’s in jail, huh?”

Chad opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Yeah, but this has nothing to do with you,” he said eventually. “This was a job gone wrong.”

“Do you really think Jensen will see it that way?”

“You don’t give him enough credit.” Chad raised his hands. “Come on, man. He’s not gonna leave,” he said softly. “He proposed.”

Jared took a deep breath. He wished he could have Chad’s faith, but Chad had never seen Jensen angry, had never seen him lean toward the foot he had half out the door. So what if he proposed? Jared still remembered when Jensen had left in the beginning.

But even if he’d stay, Jensen was in jail. The thought of Jensen having to sleep on those crappy mattresses, having to eat that disgusting food, shower in those communal showers, where everyone could just—Jared cut his hand through the air.

“Jensen is in jail. I will not allow it.”

Chad nodded. “Of course not.”

“So, this is weird,” Aldis mumbled.

Jared turned back to Aldis. “What?”

“Well, this Busy Philipps. She’s kind of a low-level thief. Tons of medical bills. The mother has Alzheimer's.”

“I know,” Jared gritted out. At the time, he’d found it endearing that Jensen, who always tried to be so nonchalant, was helping out an old friend whose talents he’d clearly outgrown. “They’re apparently old friends.”

“Hmm.” Aldis kept studying the screen. “That’s not what’s weird.”

“Then what is?”

“The way they found her. She left prints at the scene, and her face was all over the security cameras. She even checked into a nearby motel under her real name, rented the van under her real name too. That’s pretty stupid. Then again, the log shows that the security system was disabled and then came back online. Kind of like someone turned it off and on again. And the silent alarm was tripped.” Aldis looked up. “That’s a lot of things to go wrong for one job. So maybe not so stupid. It’s actually kind of a miracle that Jensen got away.”

Jared’s fists clenched. Those fuckers.

“You know,” Chad said slowly. “That sounds an awful lot like a setup.”

“Like the whole job was a con?” Jared ground his teeth together.

Chad gave him a pointed look. “You’re thinking it too, aren’t you?”

Jared’s whole body was tensing up, vibrating with the fury building inside of him. Because yes, he was. “Fucking Morgan. This is exactly the kind of shit he’d pull.” Jared turned around and slammed his fist down on his desk. Jensen _was in jail_ because of him.

“So…” Chad said slowly, obviously coming to the same conclusion Jared had. That Jensen would be supremely pissed at being collateral in Jared’s war with the Feds. Because that was what it was now.

“If I may,” Sheppard interjected looking up from Aldis’ laptop. “I don’t think Ms. Philipps will make a credible witness. The money problems, for one thing, and it looks like there are drug problems too. She might even abuse her mother’s medication, who knows? And since they have no physical evidence on Jensen, I am fairly confident I can win his case.”

“Fairly confident,” Jared repeated flatly.

Sheppard nodded.

“Can you give me a hundred percent promise?”

“That’s impossible with a jury trial.”

Jared nodded. “Then you should leave before you hear something you would have to disclose to the police. And find a way to get Jensen out on bail!”

“Of course.” Sheppard left as quietly as he’d come.

“Should I call Dani?” Chad asked.

Jared shook his head. “I’m going to take care of this myself. No one rats out my fiance to the cops. And Chad?”

“Yeah?”

“If someone thinks they can rat out my fiance to the cops, we still have an image problem.”

Chad nodded. “We’ll rectify that. But I don’t think you should get involved in this one. If this is a trap by Morgan, they’re gonna watch your every step.”

“I don’t fucking care. I’m gonna tear Busy Philipps apart.”

Chad shot Aldis a look, but Jared ignored it. He didn’t care if this was the smart choice, he was going to rip that fucking thief apart with his bare hands. No one fucked with Jensen and got to live.

But Jared would be smart about it.

 

 

He went about his business. He knew Morgan and his team were watching, so he made it a point to go to his regular job, to be seen in public. Behind the scenes, Aldis, Chad, and Mike worked overtime. A day after Jensen’s arrest, Chad had gotten a tip about the safe-house the Marshals were keeping Philipps in. They had their people in New York check it out, and it was a safehouse, all right. The Marshals were there, and there was even a blonde woman inside, as far as they could tell. The trap was so obvious, it was insulting.

So Jared kept going about his business and his people worked on finding Philipps’ real location.

He also went to visit Jensen in jail.

 

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.” Jensen’s smile was flirty, but Jared could see the strain underneath. Jensen was impossibly beautiful in the orange prison jumpsuit.

Jared reached across the table and took Jensen’s hand. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?”

“No touching!” One of the guards said, shooting their hands a pointed look.

Jared fought the urge to punch him in the face, but after holding onto Jensen for a moment longer, he drew back.

Jensen’s mouth was twisted up in a reluctant smile, so Jared still counted it as a win.

“So,” Jared prompted.

“Well, the food’s crap and so’s the mattress.” Jensen’s mouth pressed into a displeased line, but then his expression softened. “But everybody is very nice.”

“Nice?”

Jensen’s tongue darted out to wet his lips and he inclined his head. “Yeah. Very welcoming. Everybody made a point of introducing themselves. Showing their respect. And there are these two guys who follow me around and glower at anyone who even looks at me.”

“Good.” Jared had his people in prison make it abundantly clear that any transgression against Jensen would be punished with a long and painful death. To be safe, he’d assigned two of his most trusted men to bodyguard duty.

Jensen rolled his eyes, but it was fond. “Stop preening.”

Jared smirked.

“So,” Jensen started.

“The dogs miss you,” Jared said. He didn’t want Jensen asking questions.

“The dogs, huh?”

“Yeah. Yesterday, I was in the garden with them and Harley kept carrying his ball inside, trying to find you. Got slobber all over the floor. Sam wasn’t happy.”

Jensen laughed, quiet but warm. “That stupid mutt.” He looked at Jared, the corners of his eyes still crinkling. “I miss them too.”

“You’ll be home in no time.”

“Yeah, about my case…”

“We’re on it.”

Jensen’s eyebrows shot up.

“Sheppard is,” Jared amended, but he knew Jensen had gotten the message.

“Jared…” Jensen bit his lip. “I don’t want to be a bother. This was my screw-up.”

Jensen hadn’t made the connection to the task force yet. Jared debated telling him now, but he couldn’t anticipate Jensen’s reaction. It could wait.

“You’re never a bother,” Jared settled on saying. “And Mark isn’t happy when he doesn’t get to kick the DA’s ass once a month.”

Jensen shook his head. “Look, they don’t have any hard evidence. Even with Busy’s claim, I’ll be fine. There’s no reason to—”

“Look, I need to go,” Jared said. “But I’ll be back.”

Jensen’s face tightened. “Jared. Busy is an old friend. Yeah, what she’s doing is fucked up, but she’s got a sick mother, okay? I’m not mad at her.”

“That’s very generous of you,” Jared said and stood.

Jensen quickly got up. “Jared, I mean it.”

“I’ll be back,” Jared said and turned to leave.

“Jared, please,” Jensen pressed out.

Jared looked back at him.

Jensen’s eyes were big and pleading. “This is my call, Jared. And I forgive her.”

“I hear you,” Jared said.

Jensen relaxed minimally. Jared forced himself to smile, then left.

Jensen would be angry, but when Jared told him that Busy had entered the heist with the intent of setting Jensen up and selling him out, he’d think differently about it. And if not—well, Jared would have to bear it. He would not leave Jensen to rot in jail.

 

 

That evening, Sheppard showed up again.

“Did you get bail?” Jared asked.

Sheppard shook his head. “There’s no way to get bail for Jensen. And I’m not here as his lawyer; I’m here as yours.”

“What is it?”

Sheppard pursed his lips. “I enjoy working for you.”

Jared’s brows shot up at that.

Sheppard made a wavy hand motion. “I’m still not happy about how this came to be, but you have made me rich. And winning cases for you, well, it’s fun.” He smirked. “DA Carroll is just too fun to beat in court.”

“Is this about the pictures?” Jared asked. Sheppard was a gifted attorney, but Jared had never been sure of his loyalty. Since he wanted to keep him around, he’d gotten himself a little reassurance.

Again, Sheppard waved him off. “We both know that if we ever move against each other, it would be mutually assured destruction. But like I said, I like working for you. So, I come with advice.”

Jared leaned back and folded his hands over his stomach. “I’m listening.”

“Just remember not to shoot the messenger,” Sheppard said dryly. “But you might reconsider getting married.”

Jared took a deep breath. “And why would I do that?”

“Special Agent DeKay made some very interesting points during his interrogation.”

“Such as?”

“That Jensen lives in a golden cage. That he can’t live the life he wants, because the FBI is always watching. That he can’t pull the big jobs anymore. That he feels trapped.”

When the leather screeched, Jared realized how deep he’d dug his fingers into the armrest of his desk chair. He forced his hands to relax and tried to ignore the feeling of his stomach giving out. “What's your point?”

Sheppard pressed himself back into the chair. “While Jensen assured both DeKay and me that you were enough, I felt I should bring this to your attention. DeKay is good, and he gave a good speech. I’m not saying that Jensen doesn’t love you, because I’m sure he does. I’m just saying, considering your sizable assets, you should consider a prenup if you’re hellbent on marrying. And an NDA. I’d be happy to draw something up.”

There was a part in Jared that admired Sheppard for his guts. But the bigger part of him wanted to punch him in the face. “I will take that under advisement,” he gritted out. “But if you breathe so much as a hint of this conversation or anything even approaching the proximity of this topic to Jensen, I will rip you apart.”

Sheppard inclined his head. “Duly noted.” Then he stood, a little stiffly, and left.

When the door had closed behind him, Jared pushed up and jerked an arm across his desk. The pen holder and a water bottle went flying. “Fuck.”

He stood and started pacing. This was exactly what he’d always worried about. When Jensen had proposed, when he’d stayed after Jared almost died, Jared had thought they were past this. And he still wanted to think that. But he knew that Jensen held himself back. And now he was in jail. Because of Jared. And when he was released...

Jared dragged a hand through his hair. His whole body was tense and he knew it wouldn’t go away unless he tired himself out. He considered the gym, but it wouldn't be enough. He whistled, and Harley and Sadie came bounding out of the living room.

“Who wants to go for a run?”

Two tails wagged in perfect sync and Jared had to smile despite everything. “Alright, guys. Come on.”

 

 

He still went to the gym after, and when he went to bed, he told himself that Jensen was in this for good. He wouldn’t leave anymore. Jared still wasn’t able to fall asleep.

Annoyed, he got up and opened the door again. He whistled soft and long, and despite already being asleep, his dogs still came ambling up the stairs. He got back into bed and Harley and Sadie happily curled up on the rugs next to the bed, Sadie on Jared’s side and Harley on Jensen’s side, like they always did when they got to sleep in the bedroom. But the worry didn’t leave.

Jared patted the mattress and Sadie gave him a confused, almost incredulous look. Jared huffed. So the dogs hadn’t gotten to sleep in bed with him in a long time. The last time must have been when Jensen had left him, way back in the beginning.

“Come here, girl.”

With a wuff, Sadie jumped up and scooted up to his side. Predictably, Harley was standing on the other side of the bed, watching them intently, tail wagging in anticipation. “You too, you big dummy.”

Harley gave him a doggy grin and then jumped up, making himself comfortable on Jensen’s side of the bed. Sadie watched the proceedings with pricked ears. Between his two dogs, she’d always been the smart one, and Jensen’s absence was clearly worrying her.

Jared petted her head. “Don’t worry, Sadie, he’s going to come back.” He tried to tune out the little voice in the back of his head whispering that Jensen might not want to come back. “I’m going to get him back.”

Sadie whined but laid back down.

“Yeah, I miss him too.”

 

 

The dogs started to go crazy. They moped around the house and sprinted to the door every time it opened, only to disappointedly trot back to the veranda. Somehow, they must have sensed that Jensen’s absence was different this time. They missed him whenever he was away on a job, but they’d never gone this crazy or been this _worried_. Jared didn’t even have to whistle for them anymore; as soon as he ascended the stairs, Sadie and Harley followed him upstairs. It would be a pain to train that out of them when Jensen came back, but Jared didn’t care.

One evening, Chad stayed long enough to witness the dogs following Jared upstairs.

Chad raised an eyebrow.

“They really miss Jensen.”

“I bet they do,” Chad said, without a hint of teasing in his voice. “We’re going to find her. Jensen’s coming back.”

“That’s what I keep telling them,” Jared said.

Chad nodded, then left.

The next day, Chad went to visit Stephen Williams, the old fixer who occasionally hooked Jensen up with jobs. He managed to turn up Busy’s location through his underworld contacts. Because of her sick mother, Busy hadn’t cut all ties yet. It wasn’t smart, but people didn’t always make smart choices when they were desperate. Williams wasn’t keen on cooperating, but Chad brought Mike and no one ever said ‘no’ to Mike.

 

As a decoy, Jared sent Misha and Miner to New York. They were purposely sloppy about hiding their trail and Misha gleefully called Jared from a diner outside of Cleveland to tell him that two teams of plainclothes agents were following them.

While the FBI was sufficiently distracted, Abel and Mike pretended to go party in an old invite-only club. They met with the twins Kara and Kendrick, Mike’s newest proteges, and snuck out through tunnels in the basement to go get Philipps. Her mother was in a care facility in Harrisburg and Philipps visited her every week. Two birds with one stone. The FBI had no idea, and Philipps would actually do part of the work for them and slip her security detail.

Mike and Abel intercepted her before she could sneak into the nursing home and brought her to Chicago. It was risky—it was a long drive and the FBI would be on the lookout—but Jared couldn’t leave the city and he couldn’t let someone else handle this, no matter what Chad said. And with enough careful planning, everything was possible.

Jared was waiting for them in an old warehouse. He was going to make a point. He’d thought everyone had understood when he executed O’Leary, but apparently Jensen’s side of the criminal underworld didn’t think it applied to them. He’d show them just how wrong they were. Slowly, he pulled on his leather gloves.

First things first, though. Jared needed to know who else was to blame for this clusterfuck. Chad had already found a bench and shortened the legs on one side, and Jared was slowly turning the towel over in his gloved hands.

“Any problems?” he asked when Abel and Mike brought Philipps over.

Her hands and feet were shackled and her mouth was taped shut. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy.

Mike shook his head. “No one saw us. But I don't know how often the Marshals check in with her, so we might not have a lot of time before they go looking. The twins are securing the parameter.”

“Good.” Jared rolled up his sleeves. “I was at the office all day. They have no idea I’m gone.”

Whenever he needed a fail-safe alibi, he left his office building through a maintenance tunnel leading to the sewers in the basement so he never showed up on the entrance and exit security cameras.

“Still,” Chad said, “we should keep this short.”

“The Marshals have no idea where to even look for her. They’ll never think we’ve brought her here.”

Jared twisted the towel. He had no intention of keeping this short. This fucking bitch had set Jensen up. She was the reason Jensen had to suffer through jail instead of sleeping in Jared’s bed. She was the reason Jared would have another fight with Jensen.

Mike tied her to the bench, then ripped off the duct tape.

“Please, don’t kill me,” she gasped out, not wasting a second. “I promise, I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll give you whatever you want, just please...”

Jared crouched down next to her head. “Because of your testimony, Jensen is in jail.”

“I’ll take it back! I swear, I won't testify.”

Jared raised his eyebrows. “And what makes you think I’ll trust you not to turn on us the moment you’re back with the Marshals?”

“I swear, oh god, please. I have a sick mother, I’m the only family she has, please, you need to let me go, my mom is really sick.”

“Not anymore.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“Your mother passed, very peacefully, in her sleep last night.”

“What did you do?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.

“I’m not in the business of torturing old ladies. She died without ever waking up.” Jared stood. “But you betrayed Jensen. So you pay.”

“You killed my mother. You fucking monster!”

“What exactly did you think would happen if you tried to screw me over?” Jared asked incredulously.

Busy closed her eyes. “I didn’t—Jensen would never—”

“Ah, but Jensen isn’t here. And while you did put him in jail, this whole plot was to go after me, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know anything about that!”

“I doubt that. And even if you don’t… Jensen is my fiance. I will not allow him to go to jail. You know, I thought everyone knew what happened to Heyerdahl in your circles.”

Philipps swallowed visibly. “Heyerdahl was a bad man. I’m just trying to make a living. And people say you’re fair. You’re merciful. Please…”

“Not when you try to screw me over.”

Busy began to sob then, tears and snot streaking down her face. “Please. Please. I’ll leave the country. The continent. You’ll never see me again, I swear. You already killed my mother. I… I swear you’ll never see me again. Please.”

Jared unrolled the towel. “There’s something I need to know, Busy. I need to know how this happened.”

“What?”

“When did Morgan approach you?”

“I don’t—”

Jared put the towel over her face.

“I really need to know, Busy.”

“Please, I don’t know what—”

Jared took the water canister Chad handed him and began pouring it over Busy’s face. She started thrashing and whipping her head to dislodge the towel, but it was too big and too thick. Jared stopped. Under the towel, Busy was breathing heavily.

“Busy.”

“Please,” she said weakly.

Jared poured more water. He counted to ten, then he stopped.

He knelt down next to Busy’s head again.

“Three months ago,” she whispered.

Jared pulled the towel away. Busy gasped, her entire face red and wet.

“Talk.”

She swallowed, breathed deeply. Jared reached for the towel again. He didn’t have time for this shit.

“Jared,” Chad started. “We should really get a move on.”

He put the towel over Busy’s face again.

“Stop! Please, I’ll talk!”

“Then talk.” He poured again.

“She came to me three months ago,” Busy yelled.

“She?” Jared pulled the towel back.

Busy coughed and gulped in deep breaths. “Alona Tal. She’s a special agent. She came to me because I knew Jensen from seven years ago, and she said if I helped her, I’d get immunity and WITSEC and they’d take care of my mom and forgive all my debts. And I just—I just wanted to start over.”

“And you didn’t think to warn Jensen,” Jared stated coldly.

Busy was crying again, loud, heaving sobs. “I couldn’t. She told me if Jensen didn’t go to jail, I’d get nothing. No money, no new identity, no protection. They never put the deal in writing. I swear the guys who arrested me had no idea. DeKay only contacted Morgan because he knew he couldn’t touch Jensen otherwise. Please…” Her voice broke into quiet sobs.

“DeKay. The New York FBI agent?”

She nodded.

“Was there a consultant with him? Slim guy, fancy hair.”

Busy nodded again.

“That fucking piece of shit.” Jared slammed the towel onto the floor. Matt Bomer would be the next one on the list.

“Jared.” Chad’s voice was urgent. “We have what we need, we should wrap this up.”

But Jared ignored him. Everything was tinted red. These fucking disloyal snitching thieves. He was going to kill them all.

“What? Where?” Mike’s hand touched Jared’s shoulder. “Jared, Kendrick says the cops are coming. We need to go, _now_.”

Through her tears, Busy snarled at him. “You really think I wouldn’t wear a tracker?”

For a moment, everything stopped. Heat flushed his body. Fuck. He couldn’t—focus. They needed to go. Damage control. But—Jared pulled his gun. “You really think I wouldn’t kill you?” He shot Busy in her smirking face.

Busy wailed, but the sound cut off with a gurgling groan when blood spilled from the gaping hole where her mouth had been.

Then Mike’s hands tightened on his shoulders and pulled him back. “Jared, come on! They’re outside.”

Fuck. With startling clarity, Jared came back to himself.

“Kendrick and Kara say they’ve surrounded the building.” Mike scanned the warehouse. “Now what?”

Jared looked around until he spotted a manhole cover half hidden behind a bunch of rickety shelves. “The sewers.”

“Sewers,” Chad said at the same time, and they shot each other a quick grin before Chad grabbed the towel and the water canister and they all ran over to the manhole cover.

Mike pushed the shelves away at the same moment that a door creaked open on the other side of the warehouse.

Abel grabbed Jared’s shirt. “Give me the gun!”

“What?”

“Someone has to stay and distract them.”

Jared shook his head. “Abel, we can all make it.”

“Not if we stand around and dawdle,” Chad muttered and bent down to move the manhole cover.

Abel’s hand clenched in the front of Jared’s shirt. “If they arrest someone, better me than you.”

“Jake.”

Abel blinked, sudden and quick. “I owe you,” he said hoarsely. “You saved my life, saved my brother’s life. Let me do this for you.”

Jared gripped Abel’s shoulder and squeezed. Fierce warmth filled him. “I’ll take care of you.”

Abel nodded. “I know.” Then he turned around and ran across the hall. When the FBI swarmed the hall, Abel fired a shot at them and then ran toward the other side of the warehouse. Fuck.

Chad tugged at Jared’s arm. “Let’s go.”

Jared jumped down the hole, landed painfully on the ground but immediately got up and moved to the side, Chad and Mike following right behind him. Chad moved out of the way so Jared could give Mike a boost up to pull the shelves above the sewer entrance and put the manhole cover back in place. Chad got out a flashlight, and they hurried down the tunnel.

The sewers were dark and stank and leaving Abel made Jared want to punch something, but they needed to get out before he could do anything. The fact that Philipps was dead and Jensen would be home soon, did little to calm his rage.

 

 


	3. Chapter 2: Unstoppable Force

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot even express my gratefulness to ilikaicalie for putting up with all my last minutes changes.
> 
> Thank you, to all of you, for your support and feedback. I means the world to me.

 

 

“We don't believe that Abel shot her, right?” Charles asked. “Just so that we’re on the same page.”

They were outside of the interrogation room. Kurt and Charles had been with the SWAT team when they arrested Abel and found Busy Philipps’ dead body. They’d scoured the warehouse and the surrounding area, but there was no trace of anyone else. Not that Kurt believed even for a second that Padalecki hadn’t been there.

The assistant director agreed.

“I would bet my right hand that this was Padalecki,” Morgan said grimly. “But I just got the ballistic results and the gun doesn't show up for any other crimes and has no prints but Abel’s. Serial number was filed off too.”

“A guy like Padalecki would replace his gun regularly. He’d never keep a murder weapon, that's too sloppy,” Kurt said.

Morgan nodded. “CSI is still scouring the place. But so far, we have nothing but Abel. So you better get him to flip.”

“We already tried,” Kurt said, “back with his brother.”

“But now he’s looking at a life sentence.” Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “This is the best shot we’re going to get at Padalecki. Make it happen.” Then Morgan pulled his phone out and walked away, already dialing.

Well fuck. Morgan had been furious when they’d come back with Abel. He’d wanted Padalecki. From the moment DeKay had brought them the case, Morgan had been confident they’d get Padalecki. And when they’d only managed to arrest Abel instead… Kurt had never seen Morgan so furious. He’d tried not to let it show, but Kurt had seen him punch the wall. He was calmer now, but Kurt didn’t want to think about the dressing down they’d get if they failed.

Charles let out a long-suffering sigh. “The usual?”

Kurt nodded. “Yeah.”

 

 

“I killed her.” Jake Abel’s expression was regretful, but composed.

His lawyer was sitting next to him. It wasn’t Mark Sheppard, but a young woman with an open face and light brown hair who’d introduced herself as Bridget White. She worked for a firm that financed its business with the rich and the seedy but also did a lot of pro bono work for women in difficult circumstances, especially prostitutes. They’d long suspected some kind of connection between the firm and Padalecki, but they’d never found anything concrete. So Padalecki wanted to avoid the public connection, but still took care of his own. Of course.

“On Jared Padalecki’s orders,” Charles prompted.

Abel wrapped a hand around the watch he was wearing and slowly turned it on his wrist. “No, Mr. Padalecki didn’t know anything about it. And I didn’t want to kill her. I just wanted to make a deal with her, you know? When you guys showed up, I panicked. It was an accident.”

“You don’t shoot people on accident,” Charles muttered.

“Why did you want to make a deal with her?” Kurt asked, ignoring him. Charles didn’t need any help playing bad cop.

“She was lying about Jensen,” Abel said, his eyes big and earnest. “And she was threatening to lie in court. I was scared a jury would believe her.”

“If she was lying,” Kurt asked gently, “why did you think the jury would believe her?”

“Come on,” Abel said angrily. “Poor daughter of a sick woman? She’d play the pity card and then they’d paint Mr. Padalecki as a criminal and Jensen too, and if you think the DA couldn’t find eleven homophobes for the jury, then you’re going through life with blinders.”

“So you did this to preemptively protect your boss and his boyfriend?” Charles didn’t keep the disbelief out of his voice.

“You might not understand, but I owe Mr. Padalecki everything. He got me off the streets when I had no one. I had a pretty messed up childhood.” He blinked up at them. “I thought this was my shot to protect him. I just… messed that up.”

Kurt had read the file. Divorced parents, then he’d lived with a drunken uncle while his mother slowly died of cancer. The reunion with his criminal half-brother. Two stints in juvie. It was a moving story, and he had no doubt Abel would milk it in court. But it wouldn’t matter; this was premeditated murder and he’d go to jail for a very long time.

“This is such bullshit,” Charles said. “We know Padalecki killed Busy Philipps.”

“You know no such thing,” White interjected.

Abel played with his watch again. “Mr. Padalecki would never kill anyone.”

“Dammit kid, we can protect you,” Charles shouted. “You _and_ your brother.”

Abel didn’t even blink. “Mr. Padalecki didn’t know anything about it. No one did. I acted alone.”

“So you broke into the safe house where Busy Philipps was staying, all by yourself, kidnapped her all by yourself, drove her all the way to Chicago all by yourself, dragged her to that warehouse all by yourself, and then you pulled the trigger and shot her right in the face on accident?” Charles’s words dripped with sarcasm.

“The idea that my client knew the location of a US Marshal’s safe house is just preposterous,” White said. “Marshals were stationed there around the clock. There is no way my client was there and you have no proof that he was. He contacted Philipps and she agreed to meet him in Chicago in exchange for money.”

Abel nodded.

“It was an unfortunate accident,” White said, “but my client never intended to kill Miss Philipps. Who was a witness lying to the Marshals and then was prepared to switch sides as soon as the offer was good enough.” White smiled. “I think Miss Philipps was lying from the start. Mr. Campbell was never on that heist, she was just lying to milk the government for money. And when she thought she was going to get more from someone else, she left the Marshals high and dry.”

Abel nodded again. “She admitted as much to me.”

“Jesus. It’s a wonder your nose hasn’t grown three feet yet.” Charles turned away in disgust. “What am I supposed to do with this, Kurt?”

Kurt tsked. “He’s loyal, Charles. That’s commendable.”

“Loyal won’t get him anywhere,” Charles said.

“That's not the point, and you know it.” Kurt leaned forward with a sigh. “Look, Jake—can I call you Jake?” He didn’t wait for an answer; he’d learned his lesson with Campbell. “I know why you're doing this. And Padalecki knows it too. Will he appreciate it? Yes. Will he reward you for it? I’m sure he will. You’ll have a peachy time in prison and your brother will have a job when he gets out. And when you get out, you get a seat at the table. But Jake, you won’t get out for a very long time.” Kurt pushed the picture of Philipps’ bloodied face at Abel.

“Even if this trial goes well, you’re still looking at thirty to forty years. Because what you did? That’s murder one. No one’s going to buy the whole shooting-someone-on-accident thing. No one’s going to buy that she met you of her own free will. We’ll figure out exactly how you got her to that warehouse. And as you said, you killed a nice young lady who was just caught up on the wrong side of things while trying to take care of her sick mom. The prosecution will have a field day with this. There’s not going to be a dry eye on the jury. So by the time you get out of prison, you’ll be fifty-five. At least.”

Silence.

Kurt sighed again. “I get the loyalty. But you need to think about all the things you won’t get to do while you’re in prison. Eat whatever you want. Drink whatever you want. Go to the movies. See a ball game. Go on a date.” Kurt let out a short laugh. “The rush you get when a girl lets you kiss her for the first time. Sex.”

Abel snorted. “What do you know about that?”

“Good one,” Kurt said. “Humor is still working as a defense. But is that enough to get you through the next few decades? Think about it. By the time you get out, your life will be over. So take your time. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

“There’s nothing more to talk about,” Abel spit out.

“Tomorrow,” Kurt said quietly, sincerely.

He turned to the lawyer. “Talk some sense into him, will you? _He_ is your client after all.” Then he stood and herded Charles out of the interrogation room.

“You don’t really think he’ll change his mind?“ Charles’s annoyance was almost palpable.

“Let him stew alone in holding for a bit. He’s still young. Maybe, if we make him a good offer tomorrow, he’ll change his mind.”

Kurt wasn’t particularly hopeful, but he didn’t want to give up either.

But to no one’s surprise, Abel didn’t change his mind. Kurt wasn’t surprised, but he was still bitter. Once again, they’d come so close.

“I hate this fucking case,” Charles said with feeling.

“Next time,” Kurt said, putting a consoling hand on Charles’ shoulder.

Charles shot him a dark look. “Not only won’t we get Padalecki, Campbell also gets to walk. That is not the kind of two for one I enjoy.”

 

 

 

Jared hadn’t expected Jensen until later that night, but when he looked up from his computer in the afternoon, Jensen was standing in the door of his study. He was wearing the same clothes he’d been arrested in, worn gray jeans and a dark blue henley. His hair was ungelled, soft and almost floofy. The three days stubble on his cheeks looked soft too, but his expression was hard.

Damn Willy’s sneaky driving. Usually, Jared didn’t mind when Jensen managed to surprise him. But not when he was preparing for a fight.

Jensen was still standing in the door. “You killed her.”

Jared looked at Jensen evenly, bracing himself for the storm. “Yes.”

“I asked you not to.” Jensen’s face remained carefully neutral.

Jared stood and slowly walked around his desk. “I had no other choice.”

“This was _my_ choice, Jared.” Jensen bit out. “And you knew it was, which is why you lied to me about it.”

“I didn’t.”

“Oh, fuck you. You let me believe you wouldn’t hurt her; you knew exactly what you were doing. And you couldn’t even tell me to my face.”

“I couldn’t have you throw a fit in prison.”

Jensen’s eyes narrowed to thin slits. “You don’t get to pull out the drama queen accusation whenever it fits your argument—you know I’m not stupid enough to give it up in prison. Which wouldn’t even have been a problem if you hadn’t kill her in the first place!”

Jared balled his fists. He wouldn’t back down on this and he wouldn’t apologize. “I did what I had to do.”

“You didn’t have to fucking do anything.” Jensen whirled around and stormed out of the room. Jared slowly walked after him, watching him go outside and slam the veranda door behind him. He sat down on the stairs, hunched over, face resting in his hands.

Fuck. Jared had known this would be bad. He’d known Jensen wouldn’t like it. But he hadn’t had a choice. Now he could only hope that this wouldn’t be Jensen’s breaking point, that this wouldn’t be the time he finally, really left. Jared stared at Jensen’s back, and he felt helpless, like every other time he’d watched Jensen walk away. There was nothing he could do. He had to wait for Jensen to decide.

Well, he could try to sway the odds in his favor a little bit.

Jared whistled and Sadie came running. He got one of her balls out of the sideboard and held it out to her. She obediently took it into her mouth and looked at him, tail wagging. Jared pointed outside. “Go play with Jensen, girl. Go play with Jensen.”

Sadie whuffed around the ball, then trotted over to the door and used the doggy door to get outside. She ambled up to Jensen and pushed her head into his lap, dropping the ball between his legs.

Jensen sat up and patted her head. Then his hands stilled. Sadie immediately picked up on his mood. She whined and started licking his face. Jensen reached for her collar and pulled her in tight, leaning against her side. Sadie went still and just stood with him. After a while Jensen pulled back, looking at her with a sad smile. She leaned in again to nuzzle his face and, for a moment, Jensen let her. Then he stood and threw her ball. Sadie darted after it.

When she brought it back, Jensen threw it again. And again. He put his whole body into it, moved like a baseball player and threw the ball further than Jared had ever seen him do it. Yeah, Jensen would need a while to figure this out.

 

 

“I asked you to do this one thing.”

Jared forced himself not to flinch, but even though he’d been waiting for him to come back inside, Jensen had startled him again. He moved as quietly as a cat. “Jen—”

“No. I have never asked you for anything. And the one time—”

“You asked me to spare Matt’s life too.”

Jensen scoffed. “You weren’t serious about shooting him in an auction house bathroom.”

“No, but I was serious about shooting him later.”

Jensen froze. “Then why spare Matt and not Busy? She came for me; it was my call to make!”

“I’m not going to spare Matt again. And don’t be stupid, Jensen. Philipps didn’t come for you. The Feds set this up to trap me!”

“Yeah, and like a lovesick idiot, you went right along with their plan.” Jensen’s voice was abrasive and cruel. “You couldn’t even let Chad do it, you had to do it yourself. There were so many smart ways to pull this off, but you couldn’t get your head out of your ass!” Jensen stabbed a finger at him. “Bringing Busy here was unbelievably stupid, but she had insulted you, the great Jared Padalecki, the King of Chicago, and you couldn’t let that stand. Oh no. You had to personally shoot her in the face because she dared to threaten you.”

Every one of Jensen’s words burned like salt in his open wounds, made the heat of shame rise like it hadn’t in years. Jared opened his mouth to make him stop, but Jensen didn’t quit.

“She was a fucking no-name thief, a pawn of the fucking Feds, but you had to kill her personally, because she insulted your pride. You know what that is, Jared? It’s pathetic.” Jensen crossed his arms in front of his chest, let the words ring in the silence like screeching metal.

Jared swallowed. He’d seen hints of it before, the cold steel Jensen tried to hide, but apparently, he’d finally pushed him far enough. And even though this would hurt, he wanted to see the darkness inside of Jensen. He wanted to know all of him, with all his ugly little parts. He squared his shoulders.

“I expected more from you,” Jensen continued coldly. “Then again, maybe that’s why they really call you the boy king. Because you’re impulsive and stupid.”

“No one has called me boy in a long time,” Jared ground out. “And I don’t have to justify myself to you. I had to get information from Busy because I needed to know who set up this trap. And speaking of traps, if you hadn’t fucked up that job, I wouldn't have had to rescue you!”

“Don’t put this on me! She only came after me because of you. I had no reason to believe the entire job was stacked. And considering how badly she manipulated it, it’s a goddamn miracle that I didn’t even leave any evidence. So don’t you dare make your screw-ups my fault!”

“We both screwed up!” Jared exploded. “The difference is that I can clean up my mess. But if I hadn't cleaned up yours…”

Jensen scoffed and half-turned away.

“You know, considering it was your ass on the line, quite literally, sweetheart—”

Jensen glared at him. “Oh my god, Jared, I don’t need a fucking white knight, I can—”

Jared snorted. “Oh, please. We both know what would happen to you in prison if I didn’t protect you. Every crook in the joint would line up for a chance to get you on your knees or bend you over between the washing machines. So you might be a little more grateful.”

“I wouldn’t even have gone to prison! Sheppard could have won that trial.”

“You don’t know that! And I couldn’t risk it.”

“Yeah, _you_!” Jensen viciously poked a finger in his direction. “You never even asked me whether I wanted to take that risk. Because this wasn’t about me, this was about you _having_ me.”

“You’re right.” And Jared wouldn’t apologize for that. “This was all about me,” he said quietly. “Because the Feds know they can use you as leverage against me. They know you're my weak spot.” Jared stretched out his arms. “They know what a lovesick idiot I am when it comes to you.”

“Is that supposed to be an excuse? Your inability to control yourself doesn’t give you the right to control my life! To make my choices for me.”

“I made these choices for me,” Jared said. “Everybody needs to know what will happen to them if they try to use you against me. You are mine, Jensen. And I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“And what, I don’t get to make choices?”

“Oh fuck you, you make all your own choices. But not this. I don’t care how much you like your thief friends, they don’t get to interfere in my business.”

“You know what I think, Jared?” Jensen said his name like it was a target he was going to shoot. “You use your fucking business, but that’s not what it’s really about. It’s about control, about controlling me.” Jensen tilted his head, eyes cold and calculating. “You’ve been trying to control me ever since we started this thing, which is some fucked-up shit, and you know I don’t put up with that. So now you use your business as an excuse.”

“This is about my business, Jensen. Don’t fucking twist this into something it isn’t. I have never controlled you, I always let you— “

“ _Let me_?”

“ _Let you_ do whatever you want. But this _is_ about my business.”

Jensen sharply raised his eyebrows. “And what, that’s more important than me? As long as it’s your business, you get to walk all over me?”

“I wasn’t walking all over you, you stubborn bastard, I was protecting you!” Jared threw his arms out, and the cigar tin sailed off the sideboard.

Jensen didn’t flinch. “I can—”

“Can you cut your fucking independent bullshit for one moment? I know what you can do.” Jensen’s recalcitrance was going to drive him crazy. Jared walked over to Jensen and gripped his shoulders. They were going to have this fight, once and for all. “But this is not about you. This is about me, and what being with me does to you.”

“Yeah, it’s ruining my fucking life!”

“It’s ruining your life?” Jared couldn’t stop himself from shaking Jensen. Jensen immediately raised his arms and threw off Jared’s grip with a strength Jared often forgot he had. Jensen stalked towards the window, then whirled around.

“Yeah, it’s ruining my life! I can’t—I can’t do _anything_.”

“Then why the fuck are you still here, huh?” Jared only realized that he’d walked towards Jensen again when they were almost nose to nose. Because Jensen didn’t back down, he never did. It made Jared want to shake and kiss him at the same time. “Why the fuck did you propose?”

“I don’t know!”

Jared felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs.

Jensen’s chest was rising and falling quickly. He blinked, then shook his head angrily. “I wanted to show you that I was in this. That I loved you, the same way you love me. But apparently, I was fucking wrong. Because I respect you and the choices you make about your own life. And I don’t try to control you.”

“I—”

“Don’t even try to say you don’t because you do.” Jensen scoffed. “You had your people dig into my life, you had people follow me, you traced my phone, you pulled a fucking gun on me.”

“That was years ago!” Jared dragged a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know whether I could trust you then!”

Jensen ignored him. “I had to fight for every bit of autonomy and agency in this fucking relationship, and you still try to control whatever aspect of my life you can. And you say it’s all because of your job, but you know what, that's just a front.” Jensen’s lips twisted into a cruel smile. “You’re just a fucking controlling bastard, babe, always have been.”

Jared clenched his jaw. “Yeah, well, you knew the deal, you always did.”

Jensen crossed his arms, muscles bulging under his dark henley. “Yeah, well, forgive me if I thought that you’d start to respect me at some point.”

“Stop being such a drama queen, you know I respect you.”

Angrily, Jensen opened his mouth, but Jared talked over him. “I do. I’m not gonna lie, I love the control.” Jared gave him a self-deprecating smile. “I like things to go the way I want, when I want, how I want. And I’m not gonna apologize for that. And don’t forget that you like it, sweetheart.” He shot Jensen a dirty grin.

Eyes glinting furiously, Jensen moved to interrupt him, but Jared continued to talk. “But being with me, it puts a target on your back that you’d never have to dodge otherwise. And I know what it’s costing you to stay.” Jared reached for Jensen, couldn’t have him draw away again. Needed him to calm and to settle. Needed him to yield. “I know that you still have a getaway stash, I know that you still hate what I do.” Slowly, like he was facing a cornered and wounded animal, he put a hand against Jensen’s cheek.

Jensen almost vibrated with tension.

“But you put up with it.” He ran a thumb along Jensen’s cheekbone, willing him to agree. “To be with me.”

Jensen’s jaw worked, then he slowly raised his hands to put them on Jared’s chest. He pushed, but Jared didn’t budge. Jensen pushed harder, but Jared just pulled him in closer and held him fast. He needed Jensen to yield. He needed to hear it, needed to feel it.

“I’m sorry that you feel the way you do about Busy. I’m sorry you’re hurting.” He reached up to cradle Jensen’s face in his hands. “I never want to hurt you. I don’t want you to have to pay the price for what I do.”

Almost imperceptibly, Jensen leaned toward him.

Jared gripped him tighter. “I want you to have everything you want. But I can’t change the realities of my life, Jensen.”

“I need to have choices.” Jensen’s voice was hoarse but unwavering. “I understand the realities of your life, I do, but you’re like a fucking rock, Jared, a fucking immovable object. There’s no give with you and I just—I don’t have choices.” He swallowed harshly, hands bunching in Jared’s shirt. “I made one choice, _one_ , and now everything is out of my hands. And everything keeps coming back to this one choice. Because there’s no middle ground with you, no compromise. Either I stay with you and accept everything that comes along with it, or I leave. There’s no in-between. There’s just in or out. That’s all you give me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing!” Jensen broke out of his hold with such force that if he didn’t want to hurt him, Jared had to let go. “I don’t want a fucking apology.”

Jared’s hands itched with the desire to touch Jensen, so he balled them into fists. “Then what do you want?”

“Agency! Choice! I want to decide my own fate. I’m sick and tired of just sitting on my ass and watching as life happens.”

“Jensen, what the fuck are you talking about?”

Jensen stared for a moment, then he broke out laughing. It wasn’t his happy, full-body laugh, where he threw his head back and his entire body leaned into it. It was a harsh, ugly sound, spilling out of a deep corner that Jared had only ever caught glimpses of before.

“I want to call the shots. But you won’t let me.”

“That’s bullshit,” Jared said. “I never forbid you to go anywhere, to do anything. All this time, when you ran around the country stealing, I never said anything about it.”

“Yeah, because it didn’t affect you.” Viciously, Jensen gestured at Jared. “But when it does, when it affects both of us, it’s just about what you want! You’re a fucking control freak and you use violence and money to get whatever you want.”

“You’re such a self-centered asshole, Jensen,” Jared bit out, working hard to keep his voice low. It wouldn’t help to scream at Jensen, no matter however much he wanted to, but he also wouldn’t let this slide. Because Jensen wasn't an innocent little angel in this.

Jensen raised his chin. “Right now, I really hate you.”

“Because I don’t take any of your bullshit,” Jared ground out, trying not to let Jensen’s words sting. “I have never done anything you didn’t want. I’ve given you all the freedom you want, to do your own thing, to hide your life from me. Do you know what that’s been costing _me_ , having a person in my life who I can’t control? Who’s absolutely unpredictable? Who’s a fucking hedonist, always does what he wants, with no regard for others? And I never know when you’re just going to turn around and screw me over.”

“Screw you over?” Jensen gaped in outrage. “Fuck you, I don’t want anything from you.”

“How do you think I feel when you leave?” Jared burst out. “When you lie? When you hide? What, you think I don’t have feelings? I don’t get hurt?”

That shut Jensen up.

“Did you ever think about how I feel about you and your fucking drive for independence? How it cuts like a knife every time I’m reminded that you don’t trust me?”

“I do—”

“I still don’t even know your real name, Jensen!” Jared bit out.

Jensen clenched his mouth shut.

“Yeah. You don’t think that right there hurts?”

“Jared, it doesn’t matter…”

Jared raised his eyebrows in challenge. “If it doesn’t matter, you could tell me.”

Jensen stayed silent.

“Yeah, that's what I thought,” Jared said bitterly. “And you know what? I never push you. I never ask. I accepted early on that if I wanted you as part of my life, I needed to accept that I wouldn’t be part of yours.”

“What are you talking about?” Jensen’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

Slowly, Jared advanced on Jensen. “You have an entire life that I know nothing about. You don’t tell me about your past, you barely share your present, and you don’t plan your future with me. It’s not like your proposal is going to change anything. Whenever you leave, I’m not part of the equation. You decide when and where to go, and then you go. And I hate it.” Jared dragged a hand through his hair. “You think you’re sitting around on your ass? I sit here, and every time you leave, I have to watch you go and then wait for you to come back. I would’ve asked you to marry me a year ago. But I never in a million years thought I could get you to say yes. And then you went and proposed, because it’s not like anything going on in your head ever makes sense. You’re the most infuriating, unpredictable, volatile person I’ve ever met. But I accept it. Because that’s the only way I get to have you. You think _you_ don't have choices? I made one choice, just like you. And now I live with the consequences. Because you don’t give me choices either.” Jared’s chest was heaving and he tried to get his breathing under control. “I’m an immovable object? You’re a fucking unstoppable force.”

Jensen stared at him, his big, beautiful eyes fixed on Jared’s face.

“What are we doing, Jared?” Jensen’s voice broke. “What the fuck are we doing?”

Jared swallowed harshly, reached for him. “We’re making it work.”

Jensen drew in a shaky breath. He leaned forward and Jared raised his chin so Jensen could rest his head against Jared’s chest. He wound his arms around Jensen’s shoulders, and for a moment, Jensen leaned against him, let him take his weight.

“I don’t think we’re doing a very good job.”

“Well, I’m a violent control freak and you’re a selfish hedonist. I’d say we’re doing pretty well, all things considered.”

The noise Jensen made was halfway between a laugh and a sob.

Jared pressed a kiss to the top of Jensen’s head. “You are the most important thing in my life, Jensen. But what I do, that’s part of me. And I won’t ever apologize for who I am. It’s who you’ve chosen to be with, just like I’ve chosen to be with you.”

Jensen’s hand twisted into Jared’s shirt. “Don’t think that I want to change my choice, that I regret making it. Because I don’t. But sometimes, it hurts. Sometimes, it’s fucking impossible.”

The relief almost made him light-headed. Jared tightened his arms around Jensen and buried his nose in Jensen’s soft, ungelled hair. “I know.”

Jensen continued to hold on. For moments that bled into an eternity, they just stood there, holding onto each other.

It was Jensen who pulled back again. Always Jensen who pulled away first. And as always, Jared let him.

“I need some time,” Jensen said.

“What?”

Jensen’s full lips twisted into a cruel line. “I need to leave. I need a few days away from it all.”

“Away from me,” Jared stated flatly.

Jensen didn’t deny it. “I’ll come back.”

Jared swallowed. Jensen was making him pay. And Jared would let him. Because it was the only way Jensen would come back. But he couldn’t let Jensen go completely on his own terms. He needed Jensen to bend for him.

Violently, Jared pulled Jensen in for a kiss, took his mouth until Jensen was gasping for breath and Jared tasted copper. “Tomorrow,” he panted out.

“Jared…”

“No. You’re mine, Jensen.” Jared trailed his hands down Jensen’s side, rested them on his hips, pressed his fingers against the swell of his ass. “And you’re going to remember that.” He yanked Jensen against his body.

Jensen stared at him, eyes wide and pupils expanding, slowly eating up the green of his irises. He gripped Jared’s shoulders and raised one leg to Jared’s hip. He yielded. “Yeah, okay.”

Like this, he always yielded. And Jared would take it. But he’d make Jensen come to him, make him beg for it.

Jared gripped Jensen’s leg, steadied himself, waited.

Jensen pulled himself up, wrapping his legs around Jared’s hips. “Take me to bed then.”

Slowly, Jared carried Jensen up the stairs. He’d make him feel it. Jensen wouldn’t be able to stop thinking of him the entire time he was gone. Jared would take him apart, until Jensen was a shivering, begging mess, until Jared was the only thing he wanted, the only thing on his mind, and Jared would make him own up to it, to every tiny, desperate detail. Jared needed to hear it, needed to see it, needed it to soothe the wounds Jensen had clawed open.

Jensen would yield. Jared would make him. Because Jensen was his.

 

 

 

Jensen took the bike. It was a seventeen-hour drive down to Austin, and he needed that, the time on the road, just him and the wind. But before he could leave, there were two things he had to do. He took the 55 out of the city, and then met up with Morgan at a seedy diner an hour from Chicago. Morgan was already sitting at the counter, wearing an old, beaten leather jacket and a fraying ballcap. Jensen sat down at the corner next to him and ordered a coffee.

Morgan eyed him speculatively, eyes lingering on the base of Jensen’s neck where he was sporting a truly spectacular bite mark. Usually, Jared only marked him up where clothes could hide it—they weren’t in high school—but last night Jared hadn’t held back. Jensen still felt him everywhere.

“How are you doing?” Morgan finally asked.

“How do you think I’m doing?”

“You really love him.” It wasn’t a question. Morgan’s voice was calm and his eyes were almost kind.

Jensen was too tired to deny it. “I’ve been with him for two years.”

“He’s a criminal.”

“He’s a good man. In his own way.” Jensen let out a harsh laugh. “What did you expect, huh? I had two choices: Become Jensen Campbell with everything that entails or die. And whose idea was it anyway, to send me in there as a hedonistic thief? Yours. This is all your fucking fault.”

Morgan nodded.

“And I fucking told you you’d get Busy killed.”

Busy’s death was a churning knot in his stomach that just wouldn’t go away. He’d asked Willy what the story was out on the street. And Willy had told him about the torture, about Busy’s dead mother, about Busy’s brains splattered all over that warehouse. The boss needed to make a point, Willy had said. And he made it. For you. Willy had sounded almost wistful.

But Jensen hadn’t wanted this. Any of this. It wasn’t his fault.

“Busy made her choice,” Morgan said. “If she had played by the rules, she would’ve been safe.”

“Her mom was sick,” Jensen bit out. “I don’t know what you were thinking, not having surveillance at the nursing home.”

“I had the locals keep an eye on it.”

“The locals?” Jensen asked incredulously. “A bunch of pencil pushers from the field office in Bumfuck, Pennsylvania? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“We were spread a little thin, trailing your boyfriend and his crew.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Jensen took a sip of his coffee to calm himself. “If you hadn’t let me rot in jail, I could have done something about it. I could have saved her! Hell, maybe I even could have talked him out of it!”

“And that wouldn’t have gotten us anywhere. We needed to go with the plan.”

“Yeah, well, the plan was shit.”

Morgan reached for his coffee. “Yeah, no argument there,” he muttered into the cup.

“Face it, your task force isn’t getting anywhere.”

“I’m not going to lie, things did not go as planned. Not with the task force. And not with you.”

Jensen put his hands on the table to ground himself. He took a deep breath. In, out. He waited for his heartbeat to calm down. “You’re going to pull me out.”

“No. You can quit of course—”

Jensen snorted. But a dark, twisted relief filled him and he couldn’t deny that he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay. He hated himself for it, hated Jared, hated Morgan, hated everything about it, but it was the truth and he couldn’t deny it.

“But I’m not going to pull you out. I believe you’ll make the right call.” Morgan paused, his eyes searching Jensen’s face.

“Why?”

Morgan shrugged. “I’ve read your file.”

Jensen opened his mouth, to say that he’d changed, that maybe he’d never been that agent, but Morgan waved him off.

“On first glance, you might be a by-the-book agent, with a little more spirit and ingenuity than most, but if you dig a little deeper, well. It’s quite obvious that you have a strong moral compass. Your own. And that you have a problem with authority. You hide it well, but you’re a stubborn son of a bitch. And you don’t mind going off the path. You play by the rules, as long as they work for you. Your saving grace, besides that charming smile of yours? You always find a way to fit the story to the rules.”

Morgan took a sip of his coffee. “I read the Miami file. The guy you shot at the end, you claimed it was self-defense. But it wasn’t.” Morgan looked over to him. “You judged him. And then you played jury and executioner in the blink of an eye.”

Jensen swallowed. He hadn’t wanted to think about it, at the time.

“And when Padalecki had that Russian guy killed and I realized he’d come from Miami… well, it wasn't hard to put two and two together.” Morgan took another sip of his coffee. “Somehow you steered Padalecki in his direction. You didn’t execute him yourself, but you handed down the sentence.”

“Then why do you still trust me?”

“Because you might follow your own moral compass, but it’s not completely off. You know better than anyone what Padalecki is doing. And yeah, he’s not a rapist. He doesn’t sell bad product, he doesn’t screw people over. He’s a businessman. He keeps the city in line. He’s not wrong; innocent people dying from crime-related violence is down. But last week, he killed a seventy-four-year-old woman in a nursing home. He shot Busy Philipps in the face. He burned O’Leary’s men alive.” Morgan fixed his dark eyes on Jensen. “You know where he belongs.” Morgan’s mouth twisted in a cruel smile. “And you know that there’s no way out. I won’t leave you in there forever. If you want to land on your feet again, you have to bring him down. You have to make the right call.”

Jensen nodded. The right call. Yeah, he’d make it, when the time came. There was no other way, an inevitability that was comforting. He just couldn’t make that call now. He needed… time.

“And we’ll do it your way,” Morgan added.

“Not like your way was working anyway.”

Morgan didn’t get angry. Instead, he sighed. “We waited too long. He’s got too much protection from too many powerful people. And he’s too careful. So, Special Agent Ackles, what's your play?”

Jensen stared at Morgan without seeing him. He had to bring Jared down. He couldn't sit back and let someone do it, he had to be the one. His thoughts kept cycling around that.

He felt hollow, burnt out. He couldn’t quit. He had to make the right call. He’d bring Jared down. He had to. Because there was no other way out.

He swallowed and tried to ignore the feeling of emptiness growing inside of him.

“I don’t know. You're right, he’s careful. And he’s been avoiding the big deals since you started watching.” Jensen huffed out a breath. “I know he’s pissed, and he wants to expand business. It’s not a challenge anymore. And he needs that, a challenge.”

“How do we get him to take on a challenge?”

“Don’t set something up. He needs to go hunting for an opportunity by himself.”

Morgan raised his eyebrows. “So you suggest we just wait?”

Jensen smiled harshly. “No. I suggest that you quit.”

“Quit?”

Jensen shrugged. “You can’t spook him. He’s gotta believe he’s won.”

“What exactly is it that you suggest?”

There was only one way really. “You gotta disband the task force. Stop investigating. Go get yourself a new target, far away from him. And then, when it’s time, get a team together.”

Morgan stroked his beard. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

Jensen shot him a curious look.

“I’ve been fearing for a while that we’ll never get him like this. The task force came too late. We should have run this off the books from the beginning. But the brass wanted a task force and they wanted me to run it.” Morgan huffed. “They don’t know I started running your op, too.”

Sometimes Jensen forgot that Morgan was a shifty bastard, actually good at his job, even though the task force hadn’t worked out.

“I have to keep a few agents on it,” Morgan said.

“No. He’s got a new source in the bureau. I don’t have a name but he works in IT. Whatever goes through the computer system, he’ll have access to it.

Morgan cursed. “Fine. I’ll talk to a few agents, those I trust. But everything will be under the radar, nothing official, no file. But that means we gotta catch him. Whatever we interrupt, it has to be big enough to be permanent because we won’t be able to use anything else in court.”

Jensen nodded. “We can make that work. But you’ve gotta let me make the call. And I’ll keep updates strictly through Alona.”

With a sigh, Morgan leaned back. “Alright.”

“Alright? Just like that?”

“We tried. The task force has worked on this case for three years and we have diddly squat. I brought you in because we needed something new and I always knew this would be a long game. So you get all the time you want.” Morgan’s mouth quirked in a self-deprecating smile. “Pistone was undercover for six years. If we have to break his record, then so be it.”

They sat in silence. “If we do it like this, you won’t be able to go home for a long time,” Morgan said, and his voice was heavy.

Jensen nodded. He hadn’t wanted to think about this, but Morgan was right. There was no more room to hold on to something that’d be out of his reach.

Morgan stroked his beard again. “The easiest solution would be for you to die. I don’t want that new IT connection to accidentally find you somewhere.”

“No.” Jensen stared at Morgan. “No way, I’m not gonna put my family through that.”

“You think it's easier for them to think of you as undercover for years? Never seeing you, always wondering what you’re doing?”

“I won’t have them think I died!”

Morgan just stared at him.

Jensen huffed. “I quit.”

“What?”

“I’ll quit the bureau. My dad will have a field day. And then I’ll just… go traveling. Tell them I need to find myself or some bullshit. My mom thinks all gay people do yoga on rainbow mats anyway, she’ll totally buy an eat-pray-love trip.”

“What?”

“Never mind. You still get to erase me from the FBI. Anything that ever went through the system, like my paychecks, it’ll be gone. No record. No trace. Not even my fucking job application. Tell Jim to take my file and lock it up where no one can find it. It’ll be like I never worked for the bureau. And I’ll send my family the occasional postcard.”

Morgan slowly sipped his coffee. “Alright. The game is all yours.”

“Good,” Jensen said and thought of the upcoming months. “It would be rude to interrupt our honeymoon.”

That got a reaction from Morgan. He stared a Jensen incredulously. “He finally proposed?”

Jensen let out a hollow laugh. “No. Jared would have proposed months ago if he thought Campbell would say yes. No, I proposed.”

“Ackles…”

Jensen stood. He needed to get out of here. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine. I can—I’ll end this. It’s gotta end sooner or later anyway and this way I get to do it on my terms.”

With heavy eyes, Morgan nodded. “Take your time. I’d rather wait five years and do this right than not do it at all. And anything you need, you call.”

“Just make sure it looks good. The more you humiliate yourself and the bureau, the more he’ll buy it.”

Morgan made a face. “That’s gonna be unpleasant.”

Jensen raised his eyebrows. “Really? Your side of things is going to be unpleasant?”

“You’re the one going on a five-star honeymoon.”

“Fuck you, Morgan.”

Morgan gave him a tired smile. “Glad to see your spirit’s still there.”

Jensen rolled his eyes and dropped a five dollar bill on the counter. Then he left.

 

 

Jensen stopped for the night just after he crossed the stateline to Oklahoma. He found a rundown motel and a hole in the wall pizza place. He ate, then he made the call.

Matt picked up after the fifth ring. “Yeah.”

“Matt.”

Silence. Jensen heard Matt draw in a shaky breath. “Jensen. I’m—look, I’m so sorry. But I couldn’t… After last time, DeKay was suspicious and he told me, if we don’t get you, I go back to jail. And we both knew Jared would get you out.”

“You should have warned me,” Jensen said. “We had a deal. We could have worked something out.”

“Jensen, I’m sorry. You gotta believe me. I had no choice.”

“There’s always a choice.”

“Look, I wanted to warn you, I did. But when Willie Garson told me that this was all a grand setup by Jeff Morgan… I’m not gonna go up against that guy.”

“What, are you afraid of a Fed?” Jensen asked incredulously.

“Hell yeah. Did you know they called him Odysseus at Quantico?”

Jensen did. It wasn’t surprising, really. The FBI built myths just like criminals did.

“So what happens now?” Matt asked when Jensen was quiet.

“Remember the last time I told you that even if Jared killed people, I wouldn’t let him kill you? Well, I’m done protecting you.”

He could hear rustling on the other end of the line.

“It’s going to take Jared’s people a while to crack your anklet, but it’s going to happen eventually,” Jensen said. “And then you’ll be fair game.”

“Fuck, Jensen. Come on, man, do you really want my blood on your hands? You’re not like that, you’re not a killer!”

He wasn’t. Couldn’t be. The one line he couldn’t cross. Had tried not to cross. Busy’s face haunted his dreams. But he hadn’t killed her. He _hadn’t_.

“You’re right, I’m not a killer,” Jensen bit out. “You’re the one who killed Busy.”

“What? Your boyfriend—”

“If you had warned me, I could have cut a deal with her before they ever arrested me. But by the time I found out, it was too late. What did you think was going to happen?”

“Yeah, well Busy knew the risk. And she made her own choice.”

“As did you.”

Matt let out a shaky breath. “Jensen, please.”

Jensen huffed, dragged a hand through his hair. “I told you I’m not a killer. Why do you think I’m calling you?”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“Don’t tell me you can’t slip that anklet.”

“I’d be on the run forever. DeKay will never let it go.”

“Paris is nice this time of year. And it’s not like you don’t have the money. Your diamond heist share will get you to Europe or wherever else you want to go,” Jensen said harshly. “Maybe that’ll teach you to think twice the next time the Feds offer you a deal.”

Then he hung up. Fuck.

Jensen leaned against the wall and gulped in a few shaky breaths, then he took the phone apart and smashed the sim card. It wasn’t a stretch that Matt would run. Maybe Jared wouldn’t suspect Jensen of tipping him off. And if he did, well, Jensen could just claim Matt’s life as a wedding gift.

All of a sudden, Jensen felt wiped, like all the energy had left his body. He crawled into bed and tried not to think of what he had to do. What he’d have to tell his parents. Maybe he should tell them he’d joined a humanitarian organization saving the rainforest or something. Just something to explain the lack of phone or internet contact.

He snorted. His father would never buy the humanitarian trip. A yoga retreat in a remote ashram in India was much better.

He closed his eyes and hoped he wouldn't remember his dreams in the morning.

It was a futile wish.

 

 

 

Jensen stayed away. Jared threw himself into work. During the day, he was at the office; at night, he made the rounds on the streets. It was good to remind people who was actually running this town. He knew Chad had a fearsome reputation as his lieutenant and people spoke in hushed tones about Mike and Misha, but it was still his operation. And there had been too many challenges in the past months. First O’Leary, then Philipps. It was time to really restore his reputation.

It was more of a victory lap than he’d anticipated. The horror of O’Leary’s execution was still lingering and business was going reasonably well. There was a lot of honest appreciation, some obvious brown-nosing, and very little resentment. Jared only had to threaten someone twice.

He went to visit his father too. He still nominally ran his own business—under Jared’s leadership, of course—but he hadn’t been hands-on for a long time. Cassidy had slowly taken it over. She’d started out as a scout of sorts, finding new avenues of revenue, but she had a hand for guns, and Jared was very satisfied with how efficiently and under the radar she handled the original family business.

Jared’s father was happy with the arrangement as well.

“I have ulcers,” his father said. “The doctor recommended rest.”

Jared raised his eyebrows.

His father gave him a weak smile. “It’s not like you need me around anyway. You never really did.”

“I thought differently after mom died,” Jared said. “But looking back, you’re right.”

“You are so much like her.” Victor’s eyes went soft. “Smart, cunning. She was the brains behind half my deals, you know?”

Jared didn’t doubt it.

“How’s that boyfriend of yours doing?”

The one time Jared had brought Jensen to meet his father, it hadn’t been a disaster. His father hadn't been openly hostile, had even treated Jensen with reserved politeness. But his father had never hidden the fact that he didn’t agree with Jared’s sexuality. If Jared didn’t bring up his relationship, his father didn’t ask about Jensen either.

“He’s good,” Jared said. “Actually, we’re getting married.”

His father’s eyebrows shot up. “Married? Right, they let you do that now.”

Jared pressed his mouth into a thin line. “You’re invited.”

His father nodded. “Of course. You know, I’m... I’m happy you found someone.” He looked at Jared resolutely. “I’m not going to pretend I understand, but you two seem to love each other, and love is important.”

For a moment, Jared wondered whether his father actually had cancer instead of ulcers and was deathly ill. “Thanks, Dad,” he said anyway.

His father nodded. “You know, Cassidy is doing a good job.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“And you’re getting married.” He nodded to himself. “Daniel’s going to stay in jail. I tried to set him on the right path, but there wasn't much I could do. He always had more heart than smarts. And it seems like I don’t have to worry about you at all, so…”

“What are you talking about?”

“Retirement,” his father said. “Sell the place, move to the country. Somewhere warm. Where I can do lots of fishing.”

“What, you want to go to Florida?”

“Why not? It’s sunny down there.”

Jared shook his head. “You can’t be serious.”

“Ulcers are no fun. And you don't need me. Haven’t needed me in a long time. When are you getting married?”

“I don't know yet. We haven’t set a date.”

“Well, you let me know when you do. I’ll need to make travel arrangements.”

Jared was still trying to process his father retiring.

His father leaned back. “Look, my life was one long fight. I’m tired, Jared. So tired.”

Jared couldn’t even pretend to understand, but it wasn't like this would change things for him.

“Let me know when you decide to move and where you’re going.”

His father smirked at him. “So that you can keep an eye on me.”

“So that I can send you a wedding invitation,” Jared said, but his father wasn’t wrong. He might not be a big player, but he was still his dad. Jared would have someone keep an eye on him.

His father laughed, seeing right through him. “Give that boyfriend my best,” he said.

Jared thought old age was turning his father soft.

 

 

On the sixth day of Jensen’s absence, Jared finally got good news. Chad’s new FBI contact had done good work. It wouldn’t be official until Monday, but Jared celebrated early. At the office, he and Chad toasted each other, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to share this with Jensen.

“Wanna go partying?” Chad asked with wagging eyebrows. “I know it’s early, but…”

Jared shook his head. “You go alone. I’m not good company tonight.”

“Hey, we can just shoot some pool, watch some dumb TV,” Chad offered.

Jared thought about it, but he wasn’t in the mood for company.

“I think I’m just gonna work out, maybe run with the dogs.”

Chad nodded, then clapped him on the shoulder. His hand lingered a little longer than usual, squeezed him a little tighter. “If you change your mind, call me. Any time.”

Jared pulled him in for a short, half-hug. “Thanks, man.”

Winston took Jared home, his eyes darting back to Jared’s face unusually often.

“Something wrong?” Jared asked.

“No, sir.” Winston cleared his throat. “Willy was just wondering when Mr. Campbell will be back. So he’s prepared to take him shopping again.”

Jared leaned back and closed his eyes. “I don’t know. He’s probably gonna know before me.”

“I see,” Winston said.

Jared was grateful for his even tone.

 

 

When he got home, he took the dogs for a long run. As soon as they were back and Jared unlocked the door between garage and laundry room, they disappeared toward the inside of the house quick like lightning and with wagging tails. They were probably looking for water and food and then the cozy rug in front of the couch, the lazy bums. Jared dumped his workout clothes directly in the hamper, stashed his running gun in a hidden panel, and went in nothing but his underwear up the stairs to shower. He tried not to think of Jensen while he showered. Even though his thoughts were mostly dark and worried when he thought about Jensen, that didn’t stop him from jerking off to memories of his fucking mouth or ass. But tonight, he was too bitter. He’d finally defeated the FBI, and Jensen wasn’t here to share the victory.

He showered and dried himself off quickly, threw on some sweats and a Red Sox shirt Jensen had given him—“my favorite man and my favorite team”—and went down the stairs. He’d have Sam heat up some food, have a couple of beers, and find something distracting to watch while he cuddled with his dogs. Only his dogs, who had turned into codependent little puppies ever since Jensen’s time in prison, didn’t come to greet him and weren’t scarfing down food in the kitchen either. Looking for them, Jared went into the living room.

And found Jensen on the couch.

Jared stopped short. Took a moment to take him in. Bare feet crossed on the couch. Dark blue jeans, soft gray sweater. Three-day stubble. Hair artfully styled. Impossibly beautiful, as always.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said slowly, trying to gauge Jensen’s mood. Jensen hadn’t called while he was gone, just sent two texts that he was still alive. And their last fight had been vicious, just like their night of make-up sex.

Jensen’s face didn’t give anything away, but he stood. He walked over to Jared, with his bow-legged swagger and his head held high. He walked right up to him until they were chest to chest and tilted his head to kiss him.

Jared couldn’t stop his hands from reaching for him; he had to feel him, warm and solid in his arms. They kissed without Jensen ever saying a word. Just as well.

Jared walked them through the living room, tearing off Jensen’s shirt and pants. Jensen tugged down Jared’s sweatpants and pushed up Jared’s shirt, hands sliding into his hair once they were both naked. He pulled Jared down into a kiss, deep and filthy. Jared took Jensen’s face into his hands and took control of the kiss. Jensen moaned into it, pressing his entire body against Jared.

When they reached the couch, Jared pushed him down on all fours and matched his fingers to the almost-faded bruises he’d left the last time. Jensen arched into it, fell down on his elbows, and let Jared fuck him, let Jared handle him, gave up all of his power to Jared, for this brief period of time. And Jared took it, slowed down and teased him until Jensen broke and begged, and then teased him some more until he almost sobbed with it. Only then he pulled Jensen back into his lap, wrapped a hand around his throat, soft but with intent, and Jensen let his head fall back on Jared’s shoulder, let Jared take his weight and bared himself to Jared.

Jared came so hard he had to steady himself with a foot on the floor, but he managed to catch himself and then jerk Jensen off, watching his breathing speed up even more, his mouth so open and pretty, his hands clutching desperately at the arm Jared still had around his chest. He came with Jared’s name on his breath and Jared kept holding him, kept mouthing at his neck, kept feeling his pulse hammering rabbit quick until it started to slow.

Jensen pulled him down then, reached for the throw off the back of the couch, and curled himself into Jared’s arms.

“The dogs are with Sam,” Jensen said.

Jared tensed. That was either a very good or a very bad sign.

“I was in Austin,” Jensen said quietly, fingers feather-soft on Jared’s arm.

“You don’t have to tell me.” Jared pressed a kiss to the top of his head. He desperately wanted to know where Jensen had been, with whom, what he’d done, but he needed Jensen to know that nothing had changed, that he still had all the freedom Jared could afford to give him.

“Shut up. I was in Austin. With old college buddies. They don’t know about any of this, but they still let me crash on their couch.”

“That’s good.”

“They have a band,” Jensen continued. “They’re pretty good, play in local bars. Sometimes they tour a bit.”

Jared pulled Jensen in tighter.

“I sang with them.”

Jared looked down at Jensen. “I don't think I’ve ever heard you sing.”

Sometimes, Jensen sang along to a song, but never loud enough that Jared had noticed.

“I don’t anymore. I don’t know, it feels like a different life. But it was fun. I thought about buying a guitar, maybe start playing again.” He craned his head up to look at Jared. “I wore flannel shirts for the last five days.”

“You what?”

And Jensen broke out laughing. “Chris wouldn’t let me on stage in one of my shirts, so he gave me one of his flannels. And then I just kept wearing them. I don't know. It kinda fit with the scene. It was like I was back in college again, for a little while.”

“And?” Jared forced himself not to hold his breath.

Jensen’s hand tightened on his arm. “I missed you,” he said quietly, “the entire time.”

Jared pushed Jensen against the backrest and kissed him hard.

“Sometimes, it scares me, how much. I can’t—” Jensen bit his lip, then he kissed Jared, harshly, eyes screwed shut. “I’ve never felt like this, about anyone. Not my family, not anyone. And I don’t know what to do with that.”

Jared pulled Jensen underneath him, needing to feel his entire body against his. “It’s okay, baby. We’ll figure it out together.”

This time, he fucked Jensen face to face, and when he got close, he buried his face in Jensen’s neck and Jensen dug his fingers into his hair and held him tight while he shuddered through his orgasm.

They stayed on the couch for a little while longer, but eventually, hunger forced them up. They raided the fridge for leftovers and Jensen made him eat directly out of the plastic container, which Jared usually hated. But Jensen spoon-fed him in between kisses, smiling at him in just his boxer briefs, a fresh hickey blooming at the base of his neck, his hair a soft and almost floofy mess from Jared’s hands, and Jared couldn't complain.

When they were done, Jensen got a bottle of wine and two glasses, and gave Jared a cheeky smile. “Take me to bed?”

Jared picked him up bridal style.

“Oh my god, that is not what I meant!”

“Tough,” Jared said and just concentrated on carrying Jensen up the stairs. Jensen was in good shape but he was a tall guy with broad shoulders, and he wasn’t light.

“Show off,” Jensen muttered, but when Jared deposited him on the bed, Jensen’s eyes appreciatively roamed over Jared’s sweat-slick chest and arms.

Jared gave him a cocky grin and Jensen rolled his eyes.

They drank the bottle of wine, and Jensen asked about Jared’s week. And Jared told him. In more detail than he ever had before. When he was done, he poured the last of the bottle.

“So, your college buddies. What do they think you do?”

“They think I’m an art agent,” Jensen said. “I travel and buy art for rich people.” He snorted. “It’s the closest I could get to the truth without them calling the cops on me.”

“Do they know about me?”

“Yeah.”

That sounded like there was a story there. “What did they say?”

“Not much. And they thought I didn’t see, but money exchanged hands. Apparently, Steve bet against me ever settling down.”

Jared took Jensen’s hand. “Thank you.”

Jensen nodded. “This is good. I was—I didn’t—” he dragged a hand over his face. “About what I said, before—”

“We both said what needed to be said,” Jared said.

Jensen made an indignant face. “I wasn’t going to apologize, you ass, you deserved every word. I just…”

“Yeah.”

Jensen nodded resolutely. “Okay. We can make this work. I want it to work.”

Jared did too. But he needed to know where they stood. “So. Do you want to give me the speech?”

“The speech?” Jensen’s eyebrows shot up.

“About how my life puts you in danger.”

“We talked about this.”

“Briefly.” Jared let out a short laugh. “I can’t believe you’re not rubbing this in. This was everything you ever warned me about.”

Jensen licked his lips. “Yeah. But I know you’ll save me. Whatever happens, you’ll come for me.”

“Yeah, I will.”

Jensen gnawed on his bottom lip. “But no more lying. I need you to be straight with me. And I need to have a say.” Jensen huffed. “Even if you won’t listen to me, you need to tell me and you need to let me say my piece.”

“I will.” Jared leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Jensen’s reddened lips. “No lying. But baby, I’ll never let them take you away from me. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Jensen nodded, looked down to their intertwined hands for a moment. Then he looked up at Jared through his lashes. “Maybe next time with a more level head.”

“Excuse me?”

“Jake is going to jail for you.” Jensen’s voice was dead serious. “It was that close. So just… listen to Chad.”

Jared wanted to tell Jensen that he would’ve kept a more level head if Jensen hadn’t gotten himself arrested, but Jensen was right. And retrospectively, Jared was mad at himself. He’d taken a stupid, unnecessary risk. Never again.

So he just smiled and said, “Listen to Chad? I never thought those words would come out of your mouth.”

Jensen pulled a face. “Yeah, well. That’s how serious I am.” Carefully, he put his glass on the nightstand. When he looked back at Jared, his expression was resolute. Then he smiled. “Or maybe I just need a new hobby.”

Now Jared really laughed, with amusement and relief. “Now I’m imagining you building model trains.”

Jensen shot him an indignant look. “Asshole. This is your fault after all.”

”Ah, there you are.” Jared drew him in for a kiss. “But, baby, I wouldn’t want you any other way, no matter how many gray hairs the worrying is gonna give me. Though there's gonna be much less need to worry in the future. As of Monday morning, the task force will no longer exist.”

Jensen’s eyes widened. “How do you—I mean how?”

“Too many failures. The FBI will dissolve it and then Chicago PD will take over the investigation. And I’m not a priority on anyone’s list there. The police commissioner personally assured me of that.”

“So what, things are going to calm down?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Jensen nodded. “Can we go to Europe then?”

“What?”

“For our honeymoon. I want to go to the Louvre. And Amsterdam.”

“The Louvre,” Jared repeated slowly.

Jensen rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna pull a job on our honeymoon. I just—if there are no pressing issues maybe we can be together for once? Without danger of interruption?”

“Are you sure? It would be... an opportunity.”

Jensen tilted his head. “What?”

Jared drew in a deep breath and steeled himself. But he needed it on the table. “I know stealing jewelry from private residences is beneath you. I know you’re settling.”

Jensen just looked at him, frowning slightly, head cocked to the side. He opened his mouth, tongue wrapping around his canine before he wet his lips. Then he took Jared’s hand, kept his eyes trained on their intertwined fingers.

“Do you know how every crook and con has that one job? The last one? The one where the payoff is so big, you can settle down, buy an island?”

So there was something in Europe after all. But Jared already knew he’d let Jensen go for it. He nodded. “Yeah.”

Jensen raised his head, worried his lower lip with his teeth. “Well, it never happens. You’re never done. There’s always another job.”

Jared’s heart sank.

It must have been showing on his face because Jensen’s mouth curved into a small smile. “Because everyone tells themselves it’s about the money. But it’s not. It’s never about the money.” Jensen let out a short laugh, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. “The Van Gogh I stole from your office, that was my one big job. I didn’t know at the time, of course. I had no idea. I thought I had my entire career in front of me. Well, to be honest, I was only thinking about making enough money to buy myself out of Heyerdahl’s grip. But the point is, I had no idea. Never in a thousand years would I have considered that my last job. But it was.” Never letting go of his hand, Jensen straddled Jared’s lap. “You were the payoff. You’re my island. So everything I do now, that’s just for fun. I already have the real prize.”

Jared couldn't speak. He reached for Jensen's face, pulled him down in a hungry kiss, devoured his mouth. Jensen opened up to him, let him take what he wanted.

“I love you,” Jared said against his lips. “Always.”

Jensen smiled brightly. “Go shopping with me tomorrow.”

“What?”

Jensen’s smile grew. “We need to pick out the rings.”

Jared pulled him into his arms again. “Whatever you want, baby.”

 

 


	4. Epilogue

 

Jeff had really hoped the last day of the task force would end better than this. But instead of celebrating, he was staring into seven disbelieving, outraged faces.

“I don’t understand,” Detective Buckley said. “We _just_ arrested Abel.”

“No one gives a shit about Abel. He’s a fucking puppy,” Whitfield said derisively. “They want Padalecki. He’s the entire reason for this fucking task force. Would they have given a shit about Campbell? Probably. Maybe even Murray. But Abel? No one gives a shit about him.”

“Yeah, and at least you get to keeping working the case,” Steen bit out. “The FBI will be out, but the Chicago PD will still be able to keep investigating.”

“I don’t know,” Detective Sanford said. “Organized crime is really busy with the gang wars right now, and there’s a new drug making the rounds. The commissioner didn’t care about Padalecki before the task force, I doubt he’ll change his mind after.”

“Either way, it’s no longer our concern. I’m transferring to L.A.; anyone who wants to get out of here, I’ll put in a word for you. I know this didn’t go as we wanted it, but it was a pleasure working with you,” Jeff said.

The room stayed quiet, and Jeff left. There wasn’t anything left to say. He’d contact Whitfield and Evans in a few weeks. They were the ones most likely to go along with his operation off the books. He wouldn’t tell them who the mole was, but he’d tell them to stay sharp and keep an eye on things. Jeff couldn't help but grin. He was looking forward to the day when he could tell Whitfield that Jensen Campbell was really an undercover FBI agent. It was a little thing, far off in the future, but he had to take the little joys where he could.

Alona wasn’t as confident in this play as he was, but she’d had no other choice. He’d seen it in her eyes—she wanted to try again, maybe something even more illegal, so it was good to put things on the back burner for now. And the director, well, he’d agreed with Jeff’s assessment. The task force would bring neither results nor glory. It was time for the Bureau to move on.

Jeff had promised the director he’d keep an eye on things, had mentioned that there might be an avenue in the future, but he hadn’t elaborated and the director hadn’t asked.

So Jeff was going to go home and play with his dog. He deserved some down time after all this shit.

 

 

Jeff had really neglected his dog these past weeks. Bisou looked surprised every time he threw the stick because they hadn’t been this long at the dog park in ages. Another thing that would change now.

The next time he threw the stick, someone to his left threw a bright yellow tennis ball and a big brown mastiff mix enthusiastically chased after it.

“Their joy is so pure.”

Morgan froze, then turned. Padalecki stood next to him, regarding him with a pleasant smile. His other dog, the German shepherd mix, was standing next to him, watching Jeff carefully.

“It’s the most beautiful thing in the world,” Jeff said.

Bisou and Padalecki’s dog came back almost at the same time and all three dogs sniffed each other. Harley and Sadie were the dogs’ names, Jeff remembered.

Sadie stayed by her master’s side, but Harley was more friendly and Jeff bent down to pet him. It wasn't the dog’s fault he had a terrible owner. Likewise, Padalecki patted Bisou.

“She’s beautiful.”

“What do you want?” Jeff asked tiredly.

“I came to accept your surrender,” Padalecki said.

“My surrender?” Jeff’s brows shot up.

“You’re disbanding the task force.”

It wasn’t common knowledge yet. They’d officially do it on Monday. Jeff had just wanted to give his people a heads-up. They deserved it. But Padalecki just had to rub in the knowledge that he still knew what was going on in the FBI.

“I came to let you know that as long as you stay away, we won’t have a problem.” Padalecki continued. “I was… angry, when you set up and arrested Jensen. But I won’t hold a grudge. Not toward you or anyone in the FBI. _If_ this is the last I see of you.”

Jeff let out a harsh laugh. He guessed he should be grateful for that. An angry retort was on the tip of his tongue, but he knew that Padalecki needed to think he had won. Maybe he was even here to see how serious Jeff was.

“Do you want a thank you?” Jeff asked bitterly.

Padalecki regarded him carefully. “You’re a good man, Morgan, and I know you’re just doing your job. However misguided,” he added with a quirked smile.

“Yeah, well, no one cares about the job.” Jeff threw Bisou’s stick. “Politics always trumps everything else.”

Padalecki nodded. “There’s a lot wrong in this world.”

The dogs came back. Padalecki took the ball from Harley and pocketed it in a little plastic bag. “Now that you’ll leave me alone, maybe I can focus on doing my part in righting it.”

Jeff regarded Padalecki carefully. He knew Padalecki thought he was doing the right thing. The thought was there, too tempting to let go.

“Peter Callahan,” Jeff said.

Padalecki gave him a quizzical look.

“If you really want to right this world, look into his family.”

“I’m not a personal avenging angel,” Padalecki said, sounding almost amused.

“Consider it a goodbye present for me,” Jeff said.

Padalecki laughed, short and bright. Yeah, Jeff could see how he was able to charm people so easily.

“Goodbye, Assistant Director,” Padalecki said with a smile. Then he turned and left. His dogs followed on his heels.

Bisou watched them for a moment, then she turned back to Jeff.

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s time to go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joseph Pistone was an FBI agent who pioneered undercover work in the 70s and 80s. He was undercover for 6 years in the New York Mafia and his work led to over 200 arrests. He wrote a book about it which was later turned into the movie Donnie Brasco.

**Author's Note:**

> So, the next major story will be The End. Hopefully. But because writing these long plotty emotional parts is challenging and absorbing in a way that affects my rl work, it will be a while before I can get around to that. I do however have a bunch of timestamps, either mostly finished or half finished or sort of there, including the wedding (which I still don’t want to write, thanks Jensen. Fucker.). I should be able to post something every few months which hopefully better than nothing :)  
> Thank you all so much for kudos and bookmarks and comments and messages and tumblr asks and hits (yes, thank you to you reading lurkers as well :*)). It really means so much to me and is such a motivation to keep going, knowing I’m not the only person who cares about these two idiots. I know I’ve been working on this for a long time, and it’s going to be still a while until it’s finished so I appreciate you sticking with me (to new people: hi, welcome, I’m very sorry but this is going to take a while).  
> <3
> 
> You can come find me on tumblr [here](http://ashtraythief.tumblr.com/) and on twitter [here](https://twitter.com/ashtraythief) My ask box is always open.


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